Prince Charming
by Citnamor Sselepoh
Summary: Repost::If you asked Lily Evans what she thought of James Potter, she wouldn't have much to say. Prince Charming? Not quite. What she's been looking for? Not a chance. The man of her dreams? Not in a million years. Exactly what she needs? Undeniably so.
1. Sugar Quills and Chocolate Frogs

**Yes, I have decided to put the story up again. Basically, for those that haven't heard the entire ordeal, went on a wild, deleting rampage, and every story with a poem, song lyrics, etc. (whether credited or not) was targeted. Check out my live journal (user name: inthestars) for more information on the situation. The link is in my author profile. The LJ is strictly for my stories: writings, information, updates, and review responses. So just feel free to read it, comment, or ignore it completely. But I don't recommend that, seeing as how I plan to give sneak peeks and hints about future chapters. ;-)**

**Anyway, I'm not planning on changing much for the repost, apart from fixing typos and the like. In fact, the biggest change (for now) will be in _this _chapter. It's nothing drastic, but I want to change a bit of Lily's initial description of James' appearance, and I'm changing Brenna's name to Sophie Remington. **

**Also, I want to use this time to set a few things straight again. This. Is. Not. Canon. I'm going to repeat it, because I know I'll still get reviews and emails saying, "Lyke, omgzzz!11! L & J R supposed 2 haaate each other! U r teh evil writer!" So. THIS IS NOT CANON. Why? Because I had the idea before OotP came out, because I got sick of reading constant Love/Hate fics (only very few, very talented writers can still pull those off) and because it's _my_ story, and that's what I want to do. Lily's best friend, Sophie, will NOT date Sirius Black or Remus Lupin, because it's so overdone, I'm sick of it, and, again, very few writers can still pull that off. They ARE alike, and I made them that was on purpose, but not so that they could date. Sorry. Also, this is a Lily/James story, not a MWPP. Though Sirius, Remus, and Peter are very close to James, and will therefore be _in_ the story, the plot will revolve around them, and they will not be a great part of the plot. Other than a few conversations between James and Sirius, actually, the Marauders are hardly in it at all. I know it disappointed a few people the first time around, but I'm not changing it. This is a Lily/James story about all else, and it will stay that way. Now, I know this was just supposed to be a fluffy, sweet, little story, and it started that way. Only, it's quickly changed. It's still fluffy, and still mainly a romance, but it's taking on a more serious, slightly angst driven tone. I've had mixed responses about it, but I rather like the direction the story is going. **

**My one important goal with this repost is to get all my reviews back. I have them all saved, in three different places, but I just want all my reviews at one place, and I'm curious to see if I can get 700+ reviews again. :crosses fingers: Think you guys can get me there? What if I give you all barrels are gummie worms? And a James Potter of your very own? _And cookies_? **

**Updates should only take about a week or so, two at the most, until the story is all caught up. It shouldn't take too long, considering that there are only five chapters so far. Now, for all the technical details.**

**Summary****: 17 year old Lily Evans was looking for a white horse riding, dragon slaying, poetry reciting, knight in shining armor who would sweep her off her feet and take her up to his castle in the clouds. What she got was a messy haired, hazel eyed, Quidditch playing prankster who shows her that love isn't about magic carpet rides, or enchanted roses, or glass slippers. But, rather something so simple and wonderful that Lily begins to think that despite it all, she might have found her very own Prince Charming.**

**Rating****: It's PG-13, mainly for mild language and shameless fluff. It's pretty tame. However, just as a warning, I may have to up the rating in later chapters because I have some ideas that are heavy PG-13, but I don't want to risk it. So keep that in mind, just in case. **

**Disclaimer****: I don't understand the point of these, really. Everyone here knows I'm not J.K. Rowling. If I was, I'd be busy swimming in my pool of money, basking in all the glory of knowing that I am worth more than the Queen of England. Don't bother suing me, (1) because these characters, places, things, etc. are not mine, unless they are unrecognizable and (2) you won't get much from me in law suit anyway, other my HP books, my writing and a few stale gummy bears. **

**So. Without further ado, here's the story. Again.**

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* * *

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**Prince Charming  
**By Citnamor Sselepoh

**Chapter One****: Sugar Quills and Chocolate Frogs**

Ever since I was a little girl, I've been waiting for a handsome Prince to come waltzing up to my door, swearing that I was the most beautiful girl in all the land before he whisked me away into his golden carriage to live with him for all of time. And if he had to slay dragons, trample monsters, and survive the fiery pits of hell in order to prove his undying love for me, then so be it. I wanted a fairytale, a Cinderella story full of grand balls and fairy godmothers and dancing mice. I would be the damsel in distress, he would be my knight in shining armor, and we would live happily ever after.

I wouldn't settle for any less.

I had my entire wedding planned out by the time I was eight years old. I knew the type of dress I would wear, how my hair would be done, the music that would be played, the color of the bridesmaids' dresses, the food that would be served, even the pattern of the table cloths. At age nine, I knew the entire floor plan of my Victorian style house, from how many closets it would have (11), to the design of the bedspread (a floral print), to how many bathrooms would be on each floor (three).

And my husband? Oh, he was the best part of my fantasy future. Though his face was never clear in my mind, I already had our whole life planned out, even the names of our two girls (Cassandra and Claire). We'd have insightful conversations and he'd charm me with his wit and subtle flirting and we'd instantly fall in love. I imagined candlelight dinners and long walks on the beach and … absolute perfection.

It may have been a childish dream, but it was what I wanted, it was I needed, and I was determined that it was what I was going to get.

But during my last year of school, that all changed.

* * *

I was sitting in the Head Compartment of the Hogwarts Express, moodily watching the scenery pass by the window, while my insides writhed about the upcoming year. This was my last year at the school which I had called my home for the past seven years of my life, and in June, it would be over. A mere ten months from now, I would be finishing the first chapter of my life and leaving my childhood behind. It was a scary thought. 

"I'm just worried that this year is going to go by too fast," I told my best friend, Sophie Remington, when she stopped by the Head compartment.

"It might," she said, gathering her thick brown hair into a ponytail, "but don't worry so much about it. Worry about _fun_ things."

"Like what?" I questioned, settling back against the seat.

Her brown eyes glinted. "Like all the ungodly things you could do to the Head Boy in your room." She raised her eyebrows suggestively.

"Sophie!" I exclaimed, my eyes wide. "You know I would never do that."

"Oh, I know. But you should."

I rolled my eyes. "You're insane."

"Yes, well." She waved her hand, showing that it was of no importance to her. "You won't be saying that, once you find out who the Head Boy is."

I crossed my arms over my chest and let out a huff of indignation. "You're being a terrible friend by not telling me who it is. You know that, right?"

"But you _love_ surprises, Lily. And this is definitely a most pleasant surprise."

"I doubt it will be. It's already been _at least_ a half hour into the train ride and he hasn't even shown up yet."

Sophie clucked her tongue. "Yes. What a horrible person he is. Only thirty minutes into a ride that is close to six hours long and he's not rushing off to join a complete stranger to talk about upcoming school events, as opposed to having _fun_ with his friends while he still can. I shudder to think what kind of disgusting man you will end up with!" she exclaimed sarcastically.

"This job isn't supposed to be fun. It's about planning, and organizing and helping the school. And how can I do any of that, if the person that's supposed to help _me_ doesn't even bother to show his face!"

"You, my dear, are in desperate need of loosening up. And if this Head Boy doesn't make that happen, then no one can."

Now I was very interested. "Okay, you've got me hooked. _Who_ is it?"

Sophie grinned; she never _could_ keep secrets from me for very long. "Just think of the last person you'd expect, within reason of course."

I thought about it for a moment. "Spencer Weston? From Hufflepuff?" I offered meekly. Saying that he was stupid would be an understatement; I've met tree stumps with more intellect than him.

"God, no!" she shrieked. "Dumbledore's not _that_ crazy."

"Then who? You've got to at least give me a hint." I felt so ridiculous doing this; pestering my best friend for information about a boy. I was acting like an immature 12 year old, but then again, so was Sophie.

"Oh, all right," she said, as if this wasn't what she wanted from the beginning. "He's in Gryffindor. Come on, Lily. _Think_."

Well…He was in Gryffindor, was apparently an unpredictable choice for the position (that ruled Remus Lupin out) - but slightly reasonable, wasn't that serious, and – if Sophie's implications meant anything – was probably insanely good looking.

"Um … I've got! Sirius Black!" It _did_ fit.

She shook her head. "Very good guess, very close. But not quite. It's not that hard."

"There's only one more person I can think of, Soph, and I doubt Dumbledore would …" I trailed off. "Would he?"

"Dumbledore works in mysterious ways …"

I sat upright. "But that's … it's … he's … are you sure he's Head Boy?"

She nodded. "Oh yeah. I'm sure."

"But that's not mysterious! That's just absurd! It's downright mad! It's crazy! I can't! I won't! I refuse to work with him!"

"Lily! You've barely said three sentences to the guy in all your time here! You hardly know him. So stop being so dramatic."

"I am not being dramatic. I'm being practical. He's going to treat this like a joke … like it's some master prank. This is just ridiculous! He's a _Marauder_. He's silly! And he's funny! And he's not at all serious! And he's not a hard worker! And he's –"

"And he's completely _gorgeous_." Sophie cut me off.

"Are you insane? He's thin, and he wears glasses, and haven't you _seen_ his hair? It's … no! It's wrong. It's … it's James Potter."

"Somebody call me?"

Sophie and I both looked up, startled. There, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over chest was all six feet of none other than James Potter. My face turned red as I looked at him, hoping against all hope that he hadn't heard what I said. It was hard to tell whether or not he did, as the only emotion evident on his face was amusement.

He wasn't wearing his uniform, I noted, just a pair of black pants and a charcoal sweater that looked very cozy, his school robes carelessly tossed on. His raven hair was as messy as ever and his hazel eyes glinted with laughter behind a pair of thin, wire framed glasses.

His stance was casual, and I could almost imagine Sophie's swooning at the sight. I tried to look at him closer, to see what half the school saw, but I just couldn't, He still looked wiry, his hair still looked unkempt, and he wasn't even wearing his school robes, for Merlin's sake. He did have an awfully nice smile, though, and a sort of boyish charm that was immediately noticeable. Maybe I would've known from this personally if I'd ever bothered to get to know him, but he was a lighthearted joker and I was serious dreamer, and I guess I never felt the need to become friends with him. In fact other than classes and meal time, I don't even think we'd ever been in the same room together for more than a few minutes at a time.

And now he'd be sleeping across the hall from me.

It was going to be interesting, to say the least.

James coughed and I realized I'd been staring at him. "I do believe that this compartment is for the Head Girl and Boy … only." He was still smiling and it was clear that didn't really care whether or not Sophie was in there.

She raised her hand in mock salute. "Yes, sir, Head Boy, sir!" He laughed as she stood up and waved at me. "See you later, Lily."

"Bye Sophie," I called after her as she left the compartment, silently screaming at her not to leave me with the person who I had just been insulting, who, oh yeah, heard it all.

James sat down at the now empty across from me and peered down at me from behind his glasses.

"What?" I asked, a bit unnerved at his blatant staring.

"Nothing. I was just wondering if I can work out what kind of person you are from simply looking at you. I mean, you have me figured out fairly well and you've hardly spoken to me at all. "

"What are you talking about?" I asked, thoroughly perplexed.

"I believe your exact words were 'He's silly! He's funny! He's not at all serious!' … "

"Well, it's true." There was no point in denying it. James had obviously heard the conversation; I wasn't going to lie.

He looked surprised for a moment, but quickly recovered. "And how do you figure that?"

"It isn't exactly a secret, is it? You'd have to be daft not to know who the Marauders are and what they do."

He crossed his arms over his chest and the material bunched in an…odd way. "So you think that just because I kid around and pull pranks and laugh a lot means I don't work hard and am incapable of being serious?"

"Honestly? Yes, I do."

"You're a smart girl, Lily Evans." He smiled. "You're exactly right. I'm not serious at all. In fact, I was probably more shocked that you were that I got the Head Boy position. Although, I do think your little outburst earlier was a tad bit dramatic."

"It was not! And besides, it's horribly rude to listen to other people's conversations."

"It's terribly rude to talk about people you don't even know."

"Touché."

It was silent for a moment before I asked, "So, how'd you get to be Head Boy anyway?"

"I honestly have no clue. My grades are good enough, I suppose. I got all 'O's on my O.W.Ls, except for Divination; I got and 'E' in that. I never thought much of it anyway. Waste of time, if you ask me. No lump of tea leaves is going to tell me how many kids I'll have, or something of that sort. What about you?"

"About the same. But I got all 'O's … including Divination." I grinned at him.

"A true Seer, eh?"

I snorted. "Hardly. Sweeney just seems to like me…"

"Must be your hair," he mused. "Maybe it reminds her of that blasted fire she insists on lighting all the time."

I laughed. "Maybe."

* * *

And that was how it went for the rest of the ride. James was a surprisingly good person to talk to. I was right in thinking that he was someone you could be completely comfortable with. There wasn't a single moment I didn't have a smile on my face for the rest of the train ride. We found something to talk about every second … school, friends, family, anything and everything. We had a twenty five minute debate over which was better: chocolate frogs (his favorite) or sugar quills (my favorite). He won. 

I didn't even realize how long we were talking until the old lady with the food cart came up to our compartment asking if we wanted anything off the trolley. James walked out of the compartment and came back a few seconds later, loaded down with at least fifteen chocolate frogs from himself.

I was almost upset when the train came to a stop and the bodiless voice told the passengers to make their way to the front of the train. James and I were stationed in front of the doors, holding them open for all students as part of our Head duties. I tried hard to stifle my laughter as he "accidentally" closed the door on Severus Snape.

"His nose was hooked anyway," he explained to me, shrugging. "I'm sure I didn't do any damage."

When the last students finally filtered through the doors we made our way to the last carriage, still talking, still laughing, still having fun. We discussed exactly how long it must've taken Dumbledore to grow a beard that long (don't' ask me how we ended up talking about that; I still don't know) until we got to the old castle.

I sighed as we walked up the front steps.

"What's wrong?" James asked me.

"Nothing. It's just that this is the last time I'm going to be walking up these steps like this, that's all."

He laughed lightly.

"What's so funny?"

"No, nothing…You just really love this school, don't you?"

I shrugged. "It's my home. Has been for the last six years. And to think that I'll never walk up these stairs after break again…it's just a little overwhelming. And it makes me realize how little time I have left here."

"You know what, Lily? I promise to walk you up these stairs one more time."

"Promise?"

"Sure."

I smiled. "Okay. I'm holding you to it."

* * *

We walked to the Great Hall in silence, which was surprising, since there wasn't a time yet that it had been quiet between us. Somehow, it was strangely comfortable too. 

"Enjoy your dinner," I said to him as we walked in, prepared to find Sophie and reenact every single aspect of the past five hours.

"Hey, Evans!" he called. a few seconds after I walked away.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning around to look at him.

James walked over to me and stuck something in front pocket of my robes. "Chocolate frogs are still better," he whispered in my ear before making his way down to the table.

_Huh?_ I stood there, dumbstruck for a few more moments before I realized that I was in the middle of the Great Hall and hurriedly walked over to where Sophie was waiting for me.

"How'd it go?" she questioned knowingly as soon as I sat down.

I grinned at her. "I'll tell you later," I whispered as McGonagall and another batch of terrified looking first years appeared.

"Looking forward to it."

As soon as I was sure that Sophie was focused on the Sorting, I fished whatever James had given me out of my pocket. I smiled when I saw what it was and glanced down the table, to where James was sitting with his friends. He was watching me expectantly.

"Thank you," I mouthed silently to him. He winked before turning around. I smiled again, feeling like a giddy little school girl for some reason.

In my hand lay a perfectly wrapped sugar quill.

* * *

**Well, there it is…again. I hope my old readers are still willing to comment, wink wink nudge nudge, and that I can possibly gain some new ones by reposting. **

**Make sure to check my LJ for review responses. I'll be putting them up right before I update again, so it's also a good way for you all to know when the new chapters are going to be posted. Plus I just really want you guys to comment. LoL. **

**Love to all.**

**-- Erica. **

**PS – If anyone reading this has had their story, or a favorite story of theirs deleted because of song lyrics, for any other unjust reason, just know that I am so horribly sorry, and that I feel your pain. I know it's no help at all, but I thought I should say it anyway. **

edit**)Thanks to everyone who pointed out my little Brenna/Sophie slip up. Very embarassing, but it's been changed. Also, if you haven't read the author's note at the beginning, PLEASE READ IT. Seriously. It'll only take a few minutes, and it'll explain a lot. **


	2. Prefect Speeches and Screaming Watches

**The update is 2 months too late, I suck, half my readers (if not more) have lost faith in me, blah blah blah. I've not been well for the past few months, and that's why I'm not going to go on four ten pages for the wait. I'm sorry that you guys HAD to wait, but I'm not sorry that I took time away from even thinking of fanfiction. I'm sorry that I keep disappointing you readers, but I just…really needed to fix RL before I could think about the story again. Now, I just realized that RL, for me, will never be fixed and that I need to exist through my characters, because they're the only thing I can control even when I can't control myself, and the insanity of it keeps me sane. **

**  
So here you are. I think it's much better the second time around. Not _much _better, since most of the editing was done on my lunch breaks at work, and there isn't much inspiration to be found in the office of an alarm company. **

**  
Again, some changes were made in this chapter, none that affect the story _too _greatly. I think they just enhance it and make a tad more believable, and some bits of dialogue were added in order to make the story flow better. Plus, of course, chapter two was the driest chapter, fluff wise, and I figure I owe something to the readers that remain. The least I could do was change a bit of Lily/James dialogue. **

**  
A few of you asked about Sel (the editor, for those that don't know) which I did anticipate. I was really uncertain how to answer, but I'm going to stick to the truth. We didn't talk for about four months. I'm not going to get into the reason, but all you need to know is that teenagers are stupid and do stupid things and are stubborn and allow stupid things to get in the way. We've been through a lot of shit, typical and not, together and apart. But we're okay now, and we're talking, and moving on, and getting past the…past. More importantly (for you all, anyway), we're working together again, and she's back with the story. We have decided, however, that some changes had to be made, and while it might seem silly to you guys, we realized that she needed a new Editor name. But that can all be read about in her Leditor. Because no matter how many changes we make, I can never forgot what, I think, was my best typo ever. Oh no, wait, it was a…write-o. So here it is.**

"_Hi, everyone. This is The Editor Formerly Known as Sel the Mag. (yeah. shut up. I'm not turning into a symbol, small favors, people.) Well, what can I say? This year's been some trip. I fell in love, broke up, got back together, broke up, had a gun pointed at me, watched my ex run away from home (to my house), had sick relatives, failed a major test, and dealt with all of MY issues. So I needed a change, to fit how I've changed. So my name has changed as well. I'm now Lekin the Wicked. Lekin, for.. Uh. Don't ask, lol. Or do, it's mildly intriguing. And Wicked for the meaning, included below. It suits me better. Besitos, amantes!_

_1 : morally very bad : EVIL  
__2 a : FIERCE, VICIOUS b : disposed to or marked by mischief : ROGUISH  
__3 a : disgustingly unpleasant : VILE b : causing or likely to cause harm, distress, or trouble  
__4 : going beyond reasonable or predictable limits : of exceptional quality or degree_

_Taken from the AOL Merriam-Webster dictionary"_

**  
Anyway, I'm trying to keep this short. So…enjoy, I love you all. Praises are loved, concrits are more than welcome, and flames (though I've been lucky enough so far not to get any) are laughed at. Review responses will be up on my live journal (the link is in my author bio) shortly. I'd advise you all to read it, whether you left a review or not, because I'll also be addressing a few general questions that you might have been thinking of. Besides, I'll be putting up spoilers and I plan to start putting up excerpts from future chapters, too. Wink wink nudge nudge.  
**

**Love you all. Really. (Oh, and the chapter title was tweaked at bit, too. I just didn't like it.) **

**

* * *

Chapter Two: Prefect Speeches and Screaming Watches**

The first years were sorted, Dumbledore made his speech and the feast began.

Sophie didn't even bother to try and contain her excitement "Okay, spill. I want to know everything."

Spill what, exactly? "Not much happened. We just talked."

Her face fell. "That's it! You were alone in a tiny compartment for five hours with one of the sexiest men alive and all you did was talk?"

_Now_ who was being dramatic? "_'Sexiest men alive'_?"

"You are missing the point entirely."

"What do you want to hear?" I began scraping food into my plate, ignoring the look Sophie was giving me. "That we were taken hostage by mad monkeys and knocked unconscious and when we woke up there was a gun to our heads, but somehow we managed to escape and fell in love and there's going to be a wedding in the fall?"

"Now _that_ is interesting." She pointed her fork at me. "And what a story to tell the grandkids, huh?"

"What grandkids? Sophie, you are making too much out of this. It was just a train ride."

"A train ride with _James Potter_. A train ride with the guy who turned all of the Slytherin team's broomsticks into walruses. A train ride with the guy who snuck into the staff room and dyed it pink. A train ride with the guy who convinced to let Professor McGonagall put her hair down for a week. You can't tell me that nothing interesting happened."

"Well, I never said it wasn't interesting. It was real…fun."

She dropped her fork and placed a hand to my forehead, as if she was feeling for my temperature. "Quick! Alert the press! Shout it from the rooftops! It's going to make head line news. Lily Evans just said she had fun … during a job. What _is_ this world coming too?"

"It wasn't part of the job." Sophie rolled her eyes. "Seriously. I do have fun. I just know when and when not too, that's all."

"Okay fine." She leaned in conspiratorially. "So what did you find out about our Head Boy?" She whispered it, obviously ready for either scandalous or juicy gossip. If I knew Sophie, it was probably both.

Everything. "A lot actually. He's got a sister who's starting Hogwarts next year, he broke his leg when he was nine, his mother's name is Elaine, his favorite place in the world is the Quidditch pitch, and," I smiled before continuing, "he loves chocolate frogs."

Sophie stared at me blankly.

"What?"

"What does all that have _anything_ to do with one another?"

"Absolutely nothing. That's what so great about James. You can talk to him about anything … or nothing at all. I mean, I spent almost a half hour arguing with him on why Sugar Quills are better than Chocolate Frogs – that's how I know he likes them."

She was staring at me again. "What?"

"You wasted your time fighting about candy?"

How was she able to make it sound so stupid? "It was not a waste of time. It was … I don't know. Maybe it seems pointless, but it didn't to me. And it still doesn't seem pointless now."

"I do believe someone has a little crush."

I dropped whatever food had been in my fork back on to my plate. A crush? On James? She couldn't be more wrong. That was…something that never occurred to me? Something that didn't seem as crazy as it would have two days ago? Something that could very possibly be tru-

No. This was as far away as possible from a crush. But …

I knew what I wanted in a boyfriend, and it wasn't James. I wanted someone who was serious and subtle and maybe even a bit shy. James was none of those things.

I shook my head. "No. I don't like him. I mean, I do like him…but not like that. He's _great _but not in that way."

"Are you sure about that?"

No … not at all. "Positive. Come on, Sophie, you've known me since grade school. Does James honestly seem like the man I've always dreamed of?"

"No, you're right. I just – LILY! _Another _sugar quill? Don't you think you've got enough of them already?"

I looked at the piece of candy lying on the table next to me and I blushed. "James gave it to me." I took a sip of pumpkin juice, avoiding her gaze.

"Hmm. Maybe I thought the wrong person had a crush."

I whipped my head around to look at her. The idea of James liking me was even more preposterous than me liking him. It was no where near the truth. It was all kinds of crazy. It was never going to happen. It was … sounding better and better ever second. "He doesn't. Trust me. That's just the way he is. He was doing it to be funny, that's all."

"Well, aren't you going to eat it?"

"Eat what?"

She looked at me like I was crazy. "The Sugar Quill sitting an inch away from you."

"Uh … no. I'd rather not. I don't want to spoil my dinner."

"What are you talking about? One piece of candy isn't going to spoil your appetite."

I looked away from her, nervously. "I'll just save it…for class. I need something to keep me alive during History of Magic."

"Lily, I happen to know that you have a lifetime's supply of those things stocked under your bed. There is no way in hell that another Sugar Quills is going to help." She shot me a grin. "Unless of course, you're saving it for entirely different reasons …"

I suddenly felt very defensive. "What are you suggesting?"

"Like maybe you're saving it just because James gave it to you. And it is the sort of thing you'd do … if you fancied him."

"I don't fancy him, Sophie. Why are you looking at me that way? Stop looking at me that way!"

"It's just sad."

I eyed her warily. "What is?"

He smile was kind, but secretive at the same time. "That I know you better than you know yourself."

As the feast continued, I began to think more about what Sophie said. _Was_ it possible that I fancied James? No…I didn't. I'd been through that already. He wasn't my type at all. Not one thing about him was what I imagined - what I wanted. But why was I so focused on saving that darn Sugar Quill? It was just a piece of candy, after all. Then again…I was a sentimental sap – I knew that. I was just saving if for - what, exactly? _Nothing_, I argued with myself. It was just a nice gesture from a nice friend, that's all. Nothing more, nothing less.

But as many times as I told myself that, I still had trouble believing it.

* * *

When it was over, I said a hurried good-bye to Sophie and walked over to the staff table, where I was supposed to meet Dumbledore. James met me halfway there.

"Aren't you supposed to be showing the first years to their dorms?" I asked as he walked up to me.

He shrugged. "I paid a sixth year prefect to do it for me."

"You can't do that!" I said, outraged. I didn't care how good of a person he was to talk to; he couldn't just flake out on the first thing he had to do. What was going to happen later on in the year when we had important things to plan? Would he pay a sixth year to do it for him too?

"Don't worry about it," he said as if he read my mind. "I'm not going to slack off _everything_. Just the real boring stuff."

He winked and I rolled my eyes. "James, you can't just do things like that. If you're Head Boy, then you have a responsibility to do everything you're asked. It's a very important position, and I know you're not serious about it, but I am. If you could – for my sake more than yours – care just a little about it, I'd really appreciate the help."

I walked off, weaving my way around the students. Well then. It was pretty obvious that I did NOT fancy James. How could be possibly take his Head Boy responsibilities so lightly?

"Lily!" I could hear him calling after me. "Wait up."

I stopped and turned to face him, "What?" Maybe I was making too big a deal of this. Maybe I was blowing things out of proportion. But I didn't care. I was annoyed and I wanted it to be known.

"Come on, don't be mad at me. I wouldn't have said anything if I knew you were so uptight about these things."

_Uptight!_ Who was he to say that I was uptight? He barely knew me! James, seeing the furious expression on my face quickly spoke up before I could say anything. "Damn it, that's not what I _meant_. I was joking about slacking off the rest of the year. I know it's a hard job, and I'm not about to let you do it alone."

It was awfully hard to be mad at him. His voice was so sincere and his face was so serious and he was just too damn cute! "I wasn't mad at you. I just don't want to be stuck with all the work."

"You won't be." He put his arm around my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "But really, the choice between spending time with snooty first years and spending time with you isn't a very difficult one to make."

"So you paid off a sixth year so you wouldn't have to spend time with 11 year olds?"

"Yes."

"So that you could spend time with me instead?"

He grinned. "Absolutely."

"And you're not just saying that so I won't be hacked off with you?"

"Of course I am," he replied with a wink, then swaggered off.

Without thinking, I went after him, only to stop a few strides in. "Hey! Wait, you can't just – " Then I blinked, wondering how it was that the conversation had started with James running after me, only to end with my chasing him.

"Ah, Miss Evans, Mister Potter. How good to see you," we were greeted by Professor Dumbledore upon reaching the staff table.

"Good to see you too, Albus," said James, grinning cheekily. "And how was your summer?

"Wonderful. Spent it in Monaco. I must say, the Royal family was awfully nice though a bit, -" Professor McGonagall, who was standing behind him, coughed rather loudly and Dumbledore stood up, looking a bit flustered. "Oh, yes. I suppose you need to be shown to your rooms. Very well; follow me."

James grinned at me and I couldn't help smiling back.

"As I'm sure you two already know, there is a joined flat of sorts for the Head Boy and Girl," began Dumbledore as he led us out if the Great and up the marble staircase, followed closely by Professor McGonagall. "There is a quaint common room for all the Hogwarts meetings involving students. You have, of course, seen it, Miss Evans, during your fifth and sixth years here.

"Well, yes," I said slowly. "But I don't seem to remember any rooms."

Dumbledore smiled. "No, you wouldn't. They are charmed so that only the Head Boy and Girl, and anyone with them, of course, as well as a select few teachers can see the staircase leading to the rooms, a bit of genius from Professor Flitwick, in order to keep other students out. Nevertheless, you'll find it is very much like the Gryffindor Dormitories – only smaller, as it is only accommodating you two."

We got off on the fourth floor landing, stopping at the familiar statue of Sally the Sober.

"Pumpkin Pasties."

The statue swung to the left, revealing a large doorway through which Dumbledore stepped. We clambered in after him, and I couldn't help but remembering how impressed I had felt when I saw this room for the first time in my fifth year. James was walking around with a similar expression of awe on his face.

"Nice place," he said after a few minutes.

That was putting it mildly.

The room was in the shape of a Prefect's badge, with a fireplace at the back wall, a large red couch across from it, and various puffy beanbag chairs scattered around the room. Off to the right and left were two curved staircases, which I had never seen before leading up to what I presumed to be dormitories.

And then, there it was: the balcony I had fallen in love with during all my prefect meetings. It was beautiful, with its red and gold curtains (probably since we were both from Gryffindor) billowing from the wind. It was the stuff cheesy romance novel covers were made of. You know, where the gorgeous man made of muscle would be holding some beautiful woman with a waist the size of a quill and breasts the size of quaffles; and if they were on a balcony, there'd be some unbelievably amazing view in the background—the ocean or neighboring castle or something of the sort. And even though there wasn't a beach or a castle to see, the mountains and lake surrounding Hogwarts were no less majestic, and no less breathtaking.

"Miss Evans, your room is up the stairs on the left; Mister Potter, your is on the right," Dumbledore's booming voice broke into my thoughts. "You two will have to share a bathroom, which separates the room, but I think it is large enough to accommodate the both of you."

I walked around the room, towards the grand, oak bookshelf that stood next to the fireplace, scanning the titles. There were the usual charms, potions, and transfiguration books, a copy or two of _Hogwarts; A History_, and then –

"_Gone With the Wind_? That wasn't here last year," I said, turning to face Dumbledore, a smile on my face.

If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was smirking. "No. I don't believe it was. In fact, I think you will find a great deal here that wasn't there last year."

I suddenly had the strange feeling that he wasn't just talking about the book.

"Now. I'd just like to address a few rules before I leave – "

"Oh, but of course. What's a day at Hogwarts without some _rules_?" James exclaimed, grinning as he plopped on an armchair, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. "Well, let's have 'em."

"I'd just like you to keep in mind, that I would not find it _wise_ to be caught in the same room during your time here – "

James grinned. Was that all he ever did? "Albus, you ruin everything."

How could he just talk to the headmaster that way? As if they were old buddies or something. I would never dream of talking to an authority figure in such a way, especially about as something as embarrassing as being caught in … well, in a state such as Dumbledore was implying. But that was James, as I was coming to find. He just didn't seem to care who he was talking to.

"Now, James. I said it wise not to be caught. And I do so believe that you are a _wise_ boy…"

James looked at me. "Hear that, Lily? We can have a wild, torrid, passionate love affair, right in your room. As long as we don't get caught, right, Alby?" He winked at me and I blushed, turning back to the bookshelf.

* * *

Dumbledore left shortly, telling us that there would be a brief Prefect meeting tomorrow and that James and I should prepare a short speech about the things we hoped to accomplish this year. I could already tell that James wouldn't give it an ounce of thought, make everything up on the spot, and still have it be the most incredible amazing speech any of the prefects had heard. He was just that good. I, however, didn't have the luxury of his amazing mind, and was currently sitting in one of the red poufs by the balcony, tapping my quill against a notebook and trying to create something remotely interesting to say. So far, all I managed to come up with was:

_Dear Hogwarts students and prefects._

_My name is Lily Evans and as you know, I am this year's Head Girl. I am very pleased and honored to be accepting this position, and with your help I would like to make this year…_

Completely standard, completely boring, completely rigid, completely _me. _It was only two sentences and I already hated it. I ripped it out of my notebook, crumpled it into a ball, and extended my hand backward, ready to throw it at the wall. I threw it will all my might, hoping that the ink wasn't completely dry and would smudge the wall, just for fun. But the paper never made it to the wall, and instead, landed in the palm of an outstretched hand – James' outstretched hand.

"Practicing your Quidditch skills?"

I groaned and looked up at his smiling face. Of course he was smiling. James Potter couldn't be unhappy. James Potter didn't have to worry about his stupid speech tomorrow. James Potter _was un-crumbling the paper and reading it?_

"That could be private, you know," I grumbled from my seat.

He raised his eyebrows. "So private that you're throwing it around the room?"

"I wasn't throwing it around the room. I was, uh, throwing it against a wall?" I curled up and rested my head on the pouf, looking at James through half open eyes. I yawned and closed my eyes, wondering why I felt so tired all of a sudden.

"Well, as far as I know, people don't normally throw personal notes at all. What is it, really?"

I opened my eyes and jumped when I saw James standing right in front of me. Did he have to stand so close? It was more than a bit unsettling. "It's the beginning of my speech."

"_Dear Hogwarts Students and Prefects_," he began reading as I groaned and closed my eyes again. "_My name is Lily Evans, and as you know, I am this year's Head Girl. _No, really? I thought you were Head Boy._ I am very pleased and honored to be accepting this position_," he snorted. "What's so honoring about it?_...and with your help I would like to make this year_…"

God, it sounded ten times worse when read aloud.

"Well, it uh," he sounded pained and I looked up. James was holding the paper is his hands, studying it critically, turning it every few seconds, as if reading it upside down would make it any better. "Well, it's not _bad_," he said, finally.

That good, huh? "No," I said, snorting. "It's just not good."

"No, it's not good. But it's not bad either." He said the last part very quickly. "It's just…._there._"

"Forgive me if I have no clue as to what you're saying."

He looked at the paper again, and scratched his head – an annoyingly adorable gesture. "There's nothing really there. I can't say whether it's good or bad, because there's nothing yet to judge it on."

"Okay, then. What are _you _writing?"

He looked confused. "Writing?"

"For your speech?"

"Oh. I'm not writing anything."

Was I good, or what? "I knew it. I just _knew _it."

James looked confused again. It was a cute look, I had to admit. _Shut up, brain. _"Knew what?"

"Knew that you weren't going to even think about the speech until tomorrow, say whatever comes to mind, and then have it be terrific. It's not fair," I grumbled, standing up angrily.

He crossed his arms over his chest, "And why isn't it fair?" He was smirking again. He was actually _smirking_ at me.

"WHY ISN'T IT FAIR? Because, I will spend hours slaving away on this crap speech and you will spend three seconds thinking about it, but, everyone will love yours and they'll all be asleep during mine!"

"Did you ever think that maybe the problem is that you _think_ too much about it?" He sat down on the floor by the fire and smoothed out my dismal excuse for a speech.

"How is thinking a problem? In my experience, it's actually a valuable thing in everyday life." I crossed my hands over my chest, and looked down at James as he used his fist to get out all the creases.

"I didn't say not to think. I said not to think so much." He picked up the paper and patted the floor next to him. "Sit down."

I looked at him warily. "Why?"

"So I can help you with your speech, obviously."

"What if I don't want any help?"

"What if you do?" He tugged on my arm, sending me falling down and sprawling out in a most unattractive position. "See? You do need my help. You can't even stand properly with falling down; how are you supposed to write a speech?" He sent me a grin, which I would have returned if my butt hadn't been so sore.

I smacked his arm and glared at him. "Don't _do _that again."

"I didn't do anything. What - are you imagining things now?"

I hit him again. "Wow. So violent. And temperamental. And you can't even stand up normally. Are you sure you're quite alright in the head?"

"Every part of me is _perfectly_ alright, thank you very much."

James gave a fleeting glance at my crossed arms before looking up to my face, "I know, I noticed that much." Merlin, he was blushing!

"That's not what I meant." But I had to suppress a smile at it.

"Then be clearer next time." Another grin. "Now, do you need help with your essay or not?"

"Fine. Since you're so desperate to help." I liked it though, that he wanted to help me with my essay. It was … sweet.

"Right. Well, first off, ditch the "_Dear Hogwarts Students and Prefects_" part. It sounds too formal." He grabbed a quill and crossed out the greeting. "Now –"

"Wait," I interrupted him. "What's wrong with being formal?"

"Nothing. Formal is fine - if you're talking to McGonagall or something. These are just a bunch of fifth and sixth years."

I didn't get it. "So? What's wrong with being polite?"

He looked exasperated. "Lily, there's a difference between being polite and acting like you're their teacher. There's no way they'll pay attention to you if they think that going to meetings will be like taking an extra class."

"Okay, then. Fine. What should I say instead?"

"I dunno, 'hi' maybe?"

"Hi?"

"Yes. Hi. It's usually something people use as a form of greeting…" Gods, he was infuriating. And cute. But mostly infuriating.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I know _that_, you oaf. It's just not the way I would normally start off a speech."

"Exactly. That was your problem. Now, instead of all this "I'm Lily Evans and I'm honored to be your Head Girl" bullocks, talk about what you hope to accomplish." He crossed out that line, too.

"Accomplish? Well, I've always wanted to graduate at the top of the class and maybe work for-"

"No, no, no," James said, shaking his head. "I mean, what do you want to accomplish this year? As Head Girl?"

"Oh," I said, blushing. Why did I always make the stupidest remarks around James? "I don't know really. I want to do a lot."

He smiled at me. "Yes. I figured as much. But what _exactly _do you want to do?"

"I want to work with the prefects and I want to actually _do_ things for, and with the school. And you know, despite what people think, I really do want it to be fun. I want the dances to be great; I want to have the Hogsmeade trips to be better than they've ever been; I want the Leaving Ball to be the best Hogwarts has ever seen. I want this year to be so unbelievable that there won't be any words to describe it. I want the other prefects to look back after I've graduated and say, 'Damn. Lily Evans was an amazing Head Girl.' I want this year to go down as one of the greatest Hogwarts has ever had. And I want people to associate that with…well, with me." I finished, looking up at James.

"You're blushing," was all he said, a grin on his face.

My hands instantly flew to my cheeks. Damn traitors. "I do that a lot."

"I noticed," he said, his hand tugging on my ponytail. "But don't worry. It looks cute."

"Oh," I said, blushing further, wondering why I was so happy that he thought I was 'cute'.

"Well, anyway," he said, turning back to the parchment. "Those are really good things you mentioned. Why don't you just talk about them?"

He had a point. Why shouldn't I talk about them? "Okay. What then?"

"What else do you need?"

"I don't know. Elaboration, maybe?"

James shook his head again. "Why? This isn't supposed to be a big deal, Lily." I tried to ignore how nicely he said my name. "You're just supposed to talk about the things you want to get done. You said them already."

"Yeah, but...is that enough?"

"Haven't you ever heard that less is more?"

"Yes. But it's not. Less is less. And more is more. That's all there is too it."

He smiled at me again, looking at me as if I was a little girl who just proclaimed that I turned five today. "You've got a lot to learn about life, Lily Evans."

"I know enough."

"But not nearly as much as you need."

I was about to retort, but James' watch suddenly went berserk; shaking, and yelling "You're late, you're late for a very important date! No time to say hello. GOODBYE! You're late, you're late, you're late!" James pressed something on its side, and it stopped as we both stared at it.

James chuckled nervously. "Well, uh."

"I hope it wasn't talking about your period or anything."

He looked at me. "Yes, it was. I forgot to tell you. I'm really a woman and since it appears that I missed my period," here, he shuddered, "it would stand to reason that I'm pregnant."

"Congratulations!" I exclaimed, feigning happiness. "Can I plan the shower?"

"You have more spunk than I thought," James laughed.

I shrugged. "Not usually."

"Ah. So, your spunkiness is localized to me?"

"Don't flatter yourself," I grinned. "I'm merely happy about your 'new arrival'."

James laughed again. He had an awfully nice laugh. "You're –"

But whatever he was going to say got cuff off as the watch shook again, "YOU'RE LATE GODDAMN IT! GET YOUR ARSE UP AND GO!"

I couldn't stop laughing. "Go. Your girlfriend obviously doesn't want to be kept waiting." I said, a funny feeling in my stomach.

"I'd hardly call having to meet the gang for a broomstick ride a _date_…"

I suddenly felt very evil and tried to look innocent. "Oh. Will you be riding each other's _broomsticks_?"

James, for his part, looked confused. "No, we'll probably ride our own – OH! God, Evans. Who knew you had such a dirty mind?"

"What are you talking about?" I blinked my eyes, feigning complete naivety. "I was simply asking a question."

He smiled again and was about to say something but his watch shook so hard it almost fell off his hand and screamed again. "_WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING! IF YOU DON'T GET YOUR BIG ARSE OUTSIDE IN FIVE MINUTES, I WILL YELL TO THE WORLD ABOUT THE TIME YOU WENT DOWN TO THE CLUB IN MUGGLE LONDON LAST SUMMER AND GOT YOUR _–"But James shut it off violently, turning redder than my hair as he rushed to his feet. He all but ran for the door throwing a "See you in a bit, Evans" past his shoulder.

I laughed. Oh yes, things were interesting indeed.

* * *

**Well. Not too different, but there were some notable changes. **

**Many of you have asked before if I'd like to read your stories and give some concrit, but since the reviews are gone, and I can't go through the 700 or so I have saved on my computer, just leave the name of the story, and your penname, and whatever website you'd like me to read it on (or just a link to it, if that's easier) in a review. And let me know if you'd like to me to review or just email you with my response, in which case I will need an email address. **

**The next update _really _shouldn't take so long, because I'm just going to work on it during my lunch breaks. I want to completely update the story, and put up at least one new chapter by the start of school. I do have most of chapter six done, but there's so much I want to happen in it, and there are so many new things that have already been revealed…I don't want to pile it on. I will confer with Selly and put any changes on my LJ, so make sure you guys check it out.**

**Speaking of which, the review responses will be up a day or two after this update, so make sure you guys read it. I answered a lot of the reviews, and a few questions you guys have had as well. It won't take long, I promise, but it will make some more things clear. **


	3. Romance Novels and Crumpled Letters

**See? I told you I wouldn't take as long this time. I actually would have updated a few days ago, but I had certain…_issues_ with my title, and it took some time, so…here it is anyway. I was kind of hoping to get at least 100 reviews per chapter so I could be CLOSE to the amount I had before but...eh, maybe next time, right? The next update should be even sooner, maybe by the upcoming weekend even, because I'm done editing it (this one had the least changes, so it was easy). I just have to make the changes in the word document, send it to my beta (you are a goddess, Kat, really) and then I'm done. **

**There's not much to say about this chapter. I changed the title. Okay, that's a lie. The title is changed, but it comes from the brilliant mind of Armin. You'd be surprised how hard it is to find a fitting two word phrase. I added a lot of dialogue to make it flow better, but it's basically the same. And it's a bit fluffier, because you guys deserve it. **

**This chapter (after the first scene) is pretty much perfect; grammar and spelling wise, and you all have Kat to thank for that. The first scene would have been perfect, too, but Kat didn't read that because, as you all now by now, I suck, but the rest of it has been Kat-ified. Seriously, the girl is amazing.**

**Speaking of amazing…I've got a Leditor from Madame Editor, all the way from camp, so you'd better be appreciative of her. **

"Hi, biotechs. (ha. long story. Prod me to explain next chapter, k?) So I'm at (theatre) camp. Sexy, right? Right. so it's really cold today, and this internet is slower than ANYTHING IN THE FREAKING WORLD. No joke. OMFug. But I digress. I was going to write a really kickin letter, and then I realized "ohfug, I'm in camp." What else do I want to tell y'all? Well, I've got a singing part in Less Miserable (zanuzzer shouz). Bite THAT BITCHES! Anyway, I have to go, since I'm freezing. Besas y Amor! –Selly"

**Thanks for all your well wishes, guys. It really does mean a lot. A few of your reviews brought me close to tears (although that might have been because I was PMSing and therefore, _super _emotional). But either way, thanks, seriously, it helps more than you know. Plus, RL is getting much better, so no more bitchy author's notes for the rest of the summer. Rejoice, everyone. Nice!Erica is back!**

**So ahem.**** Chapter 3. Happy reading.**

* * *

**Chapter Three**Romance Novels and Crumpled Letters

"Merlin, Lily. I love this place," exclaimed Sophie as flopped onto the couch with a sigh.

"Yeah, it's great," I replied, perching on the wide windowsill by the fireplace.

"So," she said slyly, bouncing up and down excitedly. "What's it like living with Hogwart's most good looking Head Boy?"

I thought for a moment. "Surprising."

Sophie arched a delicate eyebrow. "Go on."

"It's just…not exactly what I expected it to be." I leaned my head against the cool glass off the window and closed my eyes.

"What did you expect?"

I opened my eyes and stared at the half moon. What _did _I expect, really? "Honestly? I don't know _what_ I expected. But it's not this."

"My, Lily. You sure are easy to understand," she said with a sarcastic laugh.

"I don't blame you – I don't even understand myself at the moment."

"Lily, what's going on?"

"Nothing's going on. Why?"

"I just…feel like something happened. Did something happen?"

"Sophie, nothing happened."

"I think you're lying. I think something happ – OH. Oh, Oh my God!"

"What?"

"OH MY GOD!"

"WHAT!"

"OH, OH, _oh my God_!"

"SOPHIE, WHAT?"

"James kissed you!"

It was moments like these that I was glad I didn't have water in my mouth, or something heavy in my hands because the water would have sprayed out, and the something heavy would have easily crushed my foot. As it was, I had to hold on to the ledge to keep from falling off. "Crazy, James didn't kiss me."

"Oh. Did you kiss him?"

I tried to control the mental images that came with that question and tried to look stern, unsuccessfully hiding the blush that immediately followed. "Sophie, no."

She eyed me from across the room. "Are you _sure_?"

"Positive."

She made a sound and picked at her nails while I looked out the window. We didn't say anything for a few minutes. "I wouldn't mind if he kissed me." Sophie said suddenly. "Doesn't he look like an amazing kisser?"

Sophie was insane, I was sure of it. "How can a person _look_ like a good kisser?"

She fell back down on the bed, a dreamy smile on her face. "I can tell. James just looks like he'd kiss you with…_passion._ Like he'll kiss you with everything he's got." She sat up suddenly. "Oh my god. You have to kiss James and tell me about it."

I laughed. "Sophie you're mental. I am not going to kiss James. Honestly, of all the things…"

She looked at me knowingly. "You will."

"I think you've been reading too many romance novels, Sophie."

"Ooh! Speaking of which," she leaned over the side of the couch and grabbed the bag she had dropped there earlier. "My mom just sent me a few more. I put them in here somewhere."

Sophie's mom was one of those parents I would never understand. Since fourth year, her mother had been sending her cheesy romance novels via owl post to "answer any questions she might have." The books were always dramatic, always predictable, always cheesy, and always had over exaggerated sex scenes that made me blush…but it didn't stop me from loving them. There was just something so nice about their perfect endings, about knowing that no matter what insurmountable odds faced the main characters; they would always end up living happily ever after. I wanted that so much it hurt.

"Here," Sophie said, tossing me a book once we were downstairs.

I flipped through the pages. "Great. Are you going to read the other one now?"

"Can't." She grinned at me. "I've got a date."

I dropped the book. "Why didn't you – Wait, when did – Oh my god…WHO?"

Another grin; surely she enjoyed torturing me. "Jacob McLaughlin."

"You lucky cow! You have to tell me every detail, Sophie, _every single detail_. I cannot believe you're going out with Jacob. Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

Jacob McLaughlin was the Minister of Magic's son, and was such an amazement, such a wonder to behold, he was practically revered as some godly entity. He was every bit a Prince Charming. He was refined. Cultured. Dependable. He came from a good family, was brought up well, and was the most charming, smooth, and charismatic 17 year old to be found. The fact that he had crystal blue eyes and a killer smile that sent girls swooning didn't hurt things either.

A first date with Jacob McLaughlin was exceptional. A second was nothing short of a miracle. A third never happened. Every girl wanted a chance with him. Sophie was going to become the most envied girl of the week. I would've feared for my life.

She winked. "I figured the shock would really kick in best now. Just don't tell anyone, okay? I don't quite fancy it getting around."

"Why? If I had a date with someone like Jacob, I'd want the whole world to know."

Sophie smiled. "That's where you and I are different."

I sighed. "But, still. _Jacob McLaughlin._ I'm so happy for you – depressed for myself, but happy for you." And it was true. As much as I envied Sophie at the moment, I couldn't help but be excited for her.

"Oh, what do you have to be depressed about? You are living with James Potter, for God's sake. It's not quite something to complain about."

She just didn't understand. "James is fine. But he's no Jacob."

"No one is like Jacob," she paused, looking at her watch. "Listen, I've got to go. He's picking me up in a few hours."

She picked up her bag and I walked her out to the door. "Don't forget. _Every…single…detail._ Tape the date, if you have to. I need to know everything."

Sophie winked. "Don't worry. I doubt I'll forget anything," she called over her shoulder.

I picked up the book that I dropped on the floor and brought it over to the big pouf by the balcony – the one I'd long ago decided was my reading spot. With a sigh, I opened the book. It was quiet tonight; even more so than usual. Sophie was off on her date, and James was, as usual, flying with the Marauder's, and I was…alone.

It didn't normally bother me; being alone a Friday night. At most times I was content knowing that I wanted my relationships to happen a certain way, and that I wouldn't settle for something other than what I wanted. I was even resigned to waiting as long as it would take to find my knight in shining armor – as long as I found him. But it was nights like these, when everyone had something to do, and someone to be _with -_ that I felt lonely, that I wished I _already_ had someone. With another sigh, I opened the book and began reading.

* * *

James Potter stilled his broom in midair, looking over the expansive grounds by Hogwarts and sighed. Somehow, being here for seven years and seeing almost all that it had to offer had never taken away from the beauty of the place.

_Evelien's__ going to love this, _he thought to himself. _Yeah. If she even makes it here. _He cringed at thought and gripped the handle of his broom violently, inwardly chastising himself for even thinking it. _Evelien'll__ make it, _he told himself roughly. _She'll be here next year and she'll be fine. She'll be fine._

"Oy! Prongs!" He heard a masculine voice call. Turning his broom around, James forced a smile at his best friend. With a quaffle tucked under his arm, hair falling into his eyes, and a sly grin on his face, Sirius Black skid his broom to a stop.

"I got it," he said, throwing the quaffle to James.

He caught it easily. "Where's Moony?"

"Coming. Wormtail got his foot stuck in the trick step…twice. Same step." Sirius rolled his eyes. "Last I checked, Remus was threatening to amputate his leg."

James threw the quaffle halfheartedly. "So why aren't you trying to save Peter from his latest calamity?"

"Do you honestly have to ask me that?"

James sighed, "Sirius. I don't…you, you don't have – "

"I don't _have_ to do anything. I want to." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I know you don't want to _think_ about this, much less talk about it…but, when you do – if you do, that is – I want you to know, I'm…here. I'm here for you."

Most blokes their age would have rather chewed off their arm than say that, but with them it was different. Sirius had never had a real brother or family he could show any kind of affection to. Remus had felt ashamed and outcast everyday of his life. Peter had been struggling with himself for as long as they could remember. James it seemed, was the one thing they all had in common, the one thing that brought them all together, that kept them connected. Ironic wasn't it, that the group of most known, most adored, most looked up to boys in the school were all really the most broken? But there was a sense of brotherhood between them, a friendship that went far beyond a schoolboy bond and a love for pranks and mischief. A bond so great, in fact, that even by age seventeen, they had seen and done things people twice their age couldn't imagine. Sirius once confessed that he would die for them if he had, and though James had never spoken the words, he knew he would as well.

James struggled to answer with his suddenly dry throat. "I know. I know that." How was he supposed to tell Sirius? How was he supposed to tell him that he _did _think about? Every goddamn second of the day, he thought about it.

James threw the quaffle again, determined not to look Sirius in the eyes, for he knew what he would find there.

Pity.

And he didn't want any of it.

"James."

He looked up reluctantly, unwilling to see the sympathy in his friend's eyes. But there was none there. Just understanding. And James was glad for it.

"It hurts me too, you know," Sirius said, turning away. "She's practically my sister. But we'll get through this, Prongs. We always do."

He nodded, not trusting his voice to speak. _We'll get through this. We always do. _

James shivered - hoping, praying – that they could get through this too.

* * *

_"Don't leave me, Selenay," pleaded Jeremy, in a desperate voice. "I can't live without you. You're my reason for breathing; you're my sun; you're my moon – I…love you. I love you, Sel. And I'll love you 'till I die."_

_Her eyes watered with tears that she was determined not to let fall. "I love you too, Jeremy. You know that. It'll kill me to be away from you, but I…I have no other choice." _

_"Why?" He demanded, almost roughly, as she turned away from him. She couldn't bear to look at him. She knew if she did, she'd run back into his arm and abandon all pretense – and she couldn't do that. It didn't matter how much she loved him, or how loved _she_ felt when she was with him, or how strong and secure he was whenever he would hold her. I **(should this be "it" instead of "I"?)**meant nothing anymore. "Well, Sel?" He asked again, turning her around to face him. "What is it?"_

_Selenay__ looked down. "I can't…"_

_"Can't what?" He shook her shoulders. "Can't what, Selenay? Tell me!"_

_She broke then; the look in his eyes mixed with that expression on his chiseled face, and she just…couldn't take it. "Oh, Jeremy," she sobbed, unrestrained into his shoulder. He held her, wiping away her tears and sorrows and she smiled, if only slightly. At least she knew she was safe, she knew she was loved, she knew she was home. Here…in Jeremy's arms._

I sighed contentedly and smiled, turning the page, quickly submersing myself into Jeremy and Selenay's story. I almost cried with the desperate need to be in Selenay's place – no matter that she was a fictional character. I wanted someone like Jeremy – wanted what he and Sel had. I wanted that romance, the stolen moments, the chaste kisses.

I wanted the love.

With another sigh, I turned the page again.

_"What's going on, Sel?" Jeremy asked in a quiet voice, his fingers running up her bare thigh._

_"Please Jeremy," she said, just as quietly, closing her eyes. "Not now. Let's just…be, for a while. Please?"_

_Her voice was desperate, and he sighed. Jeremy tightened his grip on her so that her face rested on his chest. "I'm worried about you. You've been through so much already. I don't want you have to go through anything else."_

_She didn't answer, and distracted herself by running her fingers over the smooth muscles of Jeremy's stomach._

_"Sel?" repeated._

_She looked up at him suddenly, raising herself on her elbows. "I love you."_

_He brought his hand up to her neck, sliding it into her black curls. "I love you, too. You know that. But, Sel – "_

_But the rest of his sentence was cut off...by her lips._

"Whatcha reading?"

The question came so abruptly, knocking me from my thoughts, and I jumped, sending the book flying, as I tried to still my beating heart. "_What_ are you doing!" I searched frantically for the book, crawling around the floor on my knees, desperate to find it before James did. _Oh God, _I thought, cringing at the prospect of James seeing what I was reading. "Where is it?" I practically screamed.

"Looking for this?" Came the amused reply.

I looked up, my heart beating frantically at the sight. James Potter. My book. Being thrown from hand to hand. Oh Merlin, I was in for it. "Can you _please_ hand that back to me?" I asked, as calmly as I could, reaching for it.

He held the book out of my reach, grinning as I tried to jump for it. "Now, what do we have here?"

James looked at the cover and I groaned. He'd seen the title.

"_Guilty Pleasures?_ My, my, my, Lily Evans. Who'd have thought? Are you reading…a _sex book?" _

I wanted to hex him, I really did. "It's not a sex book." I could already feel the blush creeping up my cheeks.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really?" He flipped through the pages, and I pounced, ready to wrestle him if I had to. I miscalculated my steps though, and ended up tripping over the rug, sending us to topple over the ground – and leaving us in a position I'd rather not think about.

"Christ, Evans," he groaned. "Watch where you throw yourself, would you?"

"I was not _throwing_ myself anywhere, James." I tried to move my leg from where it was draped around his hip, determinedly avoiding his gaze, but his palm flattened over my thigh, rendering me immobile."Can I have my book back, now?" I stood, holding out my hand impatiently as James sat up, dragging me with him.

"Say please."

He was the most infuriating man I'd ever met. "Please."

James put one hand on my hip and used the other leaf through the book again. "No, I don't think I will. That 'please' wasn't sincere enough."

"Damn it, James!" I yelled, wrenching myself away. I stood over him and attempted to look menacing. "Just give me the fucking book already!"

He stood as well, handing me the book. "Here. I'll let you read about Jeremy's "towering shaft of love" in peace."

My heart stopped pounding at that moment. "His _what_!"

"You find out some interesting things flipping through the pages of a sex book, I'll tell you that."

"It's NOT a sex book!"

"No?" He grabbed it from me before I had a chance to protest, and held it over his head. Clearing his throat, he picked a page and read: _"He closed his eyes. 'Oh, god, Sel. That's amazing. Don't stop. Don't ever stop.'_ _Selenay__ fisted her hands in his hair and moaned. 'Never, I'll never stop'."_ He flashed me a triumphant look upon seeing my flushed face. If that's not sex, I don't know what is."

I was afraid to see how red I was. "They are not…they're making love."

"Please. They're having cheap romance novel sex."

"This is not a cheap romance novel!" Except, it sort of was.

James rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry…an _expensive_ romance novel."

"You are the most infuriating person I've ever met!"

He shrugged. "You're reading trash. I feel liable to let you know that."

Perhaps it was the smug tone of his voice, or the arrogance on his face, or the pompous way he was standing, but I was suddenly furiously, boiling _mad_. "Trash?" I shrieked, my voice shrill. "What makes…what give you the right….WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT?"

"I speak the truth."

I wanted to slap him. "You are such a…such a…"

"Such a what, Lily?"

"Such a _boy_."

"Oh, now I'm really insulted."

"All of you, all the same! You think we're so silly or so fickle and you claim not to understand us and you…and you really just don't get us because…you don't have an ounce of romantic notion in your body!"

"I have plenty of romantic notions in my body."

I scoffed. "Do you, really? You mean there are other things occupying your mind besides pranks and quidditch?"

His eyes darkened and for a moment, I wondered if I maybe shouldn't have said anything. "You have no idea the things that occupy my mind, Evans." His voice was cold, the smile gone from his face. I didn't like it.

"I just meant – "

"I know what you meant. Don't always think that everything everything's as it seems to be. Don't assume you have everyone figured out. Because I assure you that you don't."

"I never thought I had –"

"Didn't you? You never thought I was just some guy pulling pranks to get attention? You never thought that I liked flying just for lack of anything better to do? You think so much, Lily, and yet you never _thought_ that there are other things happening in my life. Things worse than you can even begin to fathom. Had you realized not everyone lives in a perfect little world like yours, you'd see that maybe things are worse than I let in on!" He took a deep breath, running a hand angrily through his hair.

Perfect world? Who was he to say that I lived in a "perfect little world"? He barely knew me! "I don't think that I live in a perfect world. I never said that! And I certainly never thought that you did."

He crossed his arms and turned away, facing the balcony. "It's perfect in comparison to mine."

"Oh, please," I said, suddenly angry. "What's so horrible in your life anyway? What have you got going on that's making your existence so miserable?"

He turned to me, his eyes blazing with fury, his fists clenched at his sides. "Trust me, you don't want to know."

I didn't like this James - this angry, livid, fuming James. I found myself wishing for the grinning, annoying James who helped me with my speech three weeks ago. But I was too stubborn and mad to let this go.

I crossed the room, angrily. "Oh trust me, I do. Because I have trouble imagining what could be so truly wrong with your life."

His fisted clenched and unclenched, and his breathing was hard and labored. His jaw was set and he considered me through narrowed eyes before speaking. "I'm going to go, now, before I end up saying or doing something I'll regret," he practically growled before storming off to the balcony.

If I'd been in my right mind, I would've stayed where I was and let James rage in peace. But that wasn't the case. Instead, I stalked after him, slamming the door to the balcony. "Come on, James. Tell me what this big, terrible disaster is. Have the Wasps not made the World Cup?" I asked sarcastically.

"Lily," he warned in a menacing voice. "Just stop."

"Or perhaps Snape'sunderwear turned blue instead of pink when you paraded it around the school?" It was like standing in front of an incoming train. You knew it was stupid, and reckless, and dangerous, and that you should move before something terrible happened, but you somehow couldn't. You had this…this inner montage that was keeping you in place, telling you to just wait it out, to see what happened, to see just how far you could push the limit.

I saw him clutch the railing. "You don't know when to give it a rest do you –" It was getting closer and closer and it was as if I could hear the train rumbling as it came near, warning me.

"Or maybe your sister sent you an owl tday. She wanted that dress you sent her in a rose color, not red. Tragedy, James. However will you survive?"

His entire posture stiffened, and he turned around, practically burning me with his gaze. "Don't you _dare_ talk about my sister."

"Why not James?" I taunted. "Worried that when she goes here next year they'll all forget about you? Forget all about your stupid pranks and quidditch talent?"

"My sister might not even get to go to Hogwarts next year!" The lights were coming closer, and I could see itgaining speed, charging towards me, practically screaming, "Move the hell out of the way, you crazy psycho, while you still can!"

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Oh? And why not?" I braced myself, I think, only just realizing that there was about to be an impact.

"Because she's fucking dying from cancer, all right?"

And then…crash. That's what it felt like. Like a terrifically huge freight train crashing right into me. I knew I had pushed the limit, but I somehow hadn't expected the limit to push back, "No. No, you're joking. You're not serious." My voice was shaking just as badly as the rest of me. "Please tell me you're joking."

He turned around again, shaking his head. "Why the hell would I _joke_ about something like that?"

I couldn't believe it. I placed a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sor-"

James brushed my hand off, his voice shaking slightly with barely suppressed rage. "Don't touch me." He stormed off the balcony, his angry footsteps echoing from the next room before I heard a door slam.

I slid down, hugging my knees to my chest, trying to ignore the voice in my head screaming at me to go after him. I felt like dirt; no, I felt lower than dirt. I was a horrible, cruel, person who didn't deserve to exist. I was fighting with him about _his _life, _his_ feelings, _his_thoughts; telling him that I knew _exactly_ what was going on in his world, when I didn't know a blessed thing. I insulted his sister, for Merlin's sake. His sister who was very possibly dying. _Congratulations, Lily,_ I told myself. _You've reached an all time low._

Sophie always told me that my stubborn streak was going to get me into trouble. My mum told me that my inability to quit while I was ahead was going to land me in a tight spot. James – James, himself had told me to stop. _He told me to stop_. He even walked away when I didn't.

And I didn't listen. I _never_ listened.

The only thing I could do now was apologize and hope that James wouldn't hate me for long. Admitting mistakes never came easily to me – no matter how bad they were. This went far beyond a mistake. And yet, the concept of facing James and apologizing was the most terrifying I ever had. He could quite possibly hate me, a sentiment I could certainly understand, but that didn't make the notion of it seem any less painful.

Still, I had to apologize. I owed him at least that much.

I allowed myself a few more minutes out on the balcony before standing up. I walked out into the common room, starting when I saw a figure sitting by the fire. I thought he'd have left. "James?" I asked softly. He didn't turn around and I walked closer, my heart nearly ripping at the sight of him. His sleeves were rolled back past his elbows, his arms resting on his propped up knees. He was staring into the fire, tie hanging loosely around his neck, a bottle of butterbeer dangling limply from his fingers.

"James?" I asked again.

He took a swig of the butterbeer. "I didn't make it up." He wouldn't turn around.

"Make what up?" I inched closer, almost afraid to go near him.

"About my sister." He took another drink. "That's why you came back in, isn't it? To make sure I wasn't lying about it? Wanted to prove your point that nothing's wrong in my life, right?"

I shook my head furiously. "No, that's not –"

"Because it's true. I really do have a sister, she really is ten, and she really does have cancer." He barely flinched at the words, but I saw a look of pain flash across his features for a brief second, and I was suddenly overcome with the image of a younger James standing in front of his mirror, repeating the words over and overalmost like a mantra. _Cancer, cancer, cancer. _I imagined him with that same look of pain every time he said it. My heart went out to him.

"I'm sorry," I blurted out, sinking into the plush carpet, next to him. "That's why I came in here. I just," I paused, looking for some sign that he heard me. None came. "I just wanted to say sorry."

James kept staring into the fire. "Why?"

"Well, because." I sat down next to him, wiping my sweaty palms on my thighs. "I feel horrible, James, I really do. I had no right to assume I knew anything about your life or what happens in it. No right."

"No, you didn't."

I wrung my hands, nervously. "Really, I had no idea. I wouldn't have even said anything…I just…I'm sorry."

James took anther drink, not saying anything.

"Can you please say _something_?" I pleaded desperately.

"I don't think you'll want to hear anything I have to say to you right now."

I swallowed, my heart sinking. "Right. I don't think I would." I stood up. "I don't want you to be mad at me, James, but I'll understand that you are. I really _am_ sorry."

I was halfway to the staircase when I heard him speak. "I'm not mad at you."

I turned back around, my heart beating frantically. "You're - you're not?"

"No." James shook his head, running a hand through his hair. "I probably should be, but I'm not."

"Why aren't you?" I asked quietly, walking back towards him.

"Because, I can't say I blame you. You had no idea really, did you? You were just mad. We all say stupid things when we're mad."

I sat down again, staring at my hands. "Well, either way, I'm sorry."

James nodded, "I know. Thank you."

We sat in silence for a long time. James stared into the fire while I studied him, almost unabashedly. If he saw or felt uncomfortable, he didn't let on. There was just…_something_ about the way he looked at that moment, as if he was much older than his seventeenyears. He sighed and took off his glasses, rubbing a hand over his face. James turned to me and smiled, and I was momentarily struck dumb by the way his eyes looked without his glasses. I felt dizzy,and grabbed hold of a thread on the rug. He just sort of looked at me for a while. I should have stopped looking at him. I didn't. After a minute or two, he turned away and put his glasses back. I just barely suppressed my sigh of relief and went back to looking at him. This time, I was sure he was aware of it. That should have made me look away. It didn't.

Maybe it was just the light forming shadows on his face, but for some reason I noticed just how strong his jaw looked, and how there was the tiniest hint of stubble there, and this…this _heat_, almost just slammed into me out of nowhere. I gulped and finally looked away, my thoughts roaming back to little, younger, James because that was far safer than big, grown up James and his strong jaw. But those thoughts soon led to ones about how old he might have been when he found out about his sister, and the thought of a younger James crying alone in his dormitory nearly broke my heart.

I wondered how many people knew and realized that it couldn't be many, otherwise it would have been all over the school. I would bet all the sugar quills in Honeydukes that Sirius knew. So that meant most likely Remus and Peter, too. It was more than likely that Professor Dumbledore knew (absolutely nothing escaped that man), but I was fairly sure that was the extent. The fact that I was now part of this tiny group made me strangely happy even though James hadn't exactly told me because he wanted to. Actually, the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if I would have ever known had we not fought.

I wondered a lot of things. I wondered when that strong jaw of his showed up. I wondered why I was wondering about that. I decided to wonder about something else. I wondered who told him about his sister. Was it a doctor? Maybe he found out from his parents? The need to know everything was nearly overpowering.

"James?" I asked tenatively.

He turned to me without saying anything. I wasn't feeling brave this time and dropped my gaze. "How…how old were you? When…" I trailed off, thinking that this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe he wouldn't know what I was talking about and we could forget that I ever brought it up.

"Twelve." I looked up, surprised. He cleared his throat and looked down. "I was twelve…when I found out. On Christmas holidays our second year. It was after our Christmas party, actually. I was in bed already, and Evelien just…crawled in and hugged me and I remember that…that her eyes were so damn watery. I thought she had a bad dream, you know? She always came to me when she had a bad dream." He picked at a stray thread on the rug again, and his voice dropped down to a tortured whisper. "She thought I was her big protector or something. I always loved that, you know? Thinking I could save her from anything. Any monsters in the attic or scary dreams… I remember…I remember I reached for my wand, because I always liked to make these ridiculous shadow puppets for her when she was scared, to make her laugh. But she just went, 'Jamie, I have to tell you something you won't like.' And it was like…like my heart just _stopped_ when she told me. I felt like I let her down somehow. This was the one thing I really needed to save her from, and I just…I couldn't do that. I couldn't make it go away, not with a million shadow puppets. I'd never been that scared…in my life, ever. But Evelien...she's…Merlin, she's strong, stronger than any of us, I think."

"Evelien? Beautiful name."

"She's a beautiful girl. I'm going to have to hex the boys away from her in a few years." He bit his lip and closed his eyes as if strained. It must have been horrible, thinking that, and knowing deep down that she might not even be there in a few years. To have those thought plaguing you, torturing you _every minute of the day_…

"How do you deal with it?" I asked before I could stop myself.

It took him a while before he answered. "What do you mean?"

I looked at him before speaking, making sure he wasn't angry. "How can you even _act_ happy, knowing what's going on? I'd never be able to handle it."

He shrugged. "We deal with things differently, I guess."

"I'd probably haul myself up to my room and cry for days on end."

"I've wanted to do that on more than one occasion, believe me. But I've got good friends; they won't let me wallow in my misery. Sirius has been a big help, though Merlin knows he's just as messed up as I am. Pranks are certainly one way of getting things off my mind. Flying has been the best help, lately. And then there's…well," he mumbled something and looked embarrassed.

"What was that?"

"I said…" he cleared his throat again. "I said…you. And then there's…you."

I nearly fell over myself with surprise. "Me?"

James looked at me, the smallest hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Yes. Don't look so shocked. You'd be surprised at how much teasing a pretty girl will get you to stop thinking of things."

I tried not to feel too flattered that he called me a pretty girl. I still was. "Teasing me really helps you get your mind off things?"

"Yes. You're stubborn Lily, and you don't give up easily. And you look cute when you blush – always an added bonus."

I wasn't sure what to do with the string of compliments. Ducking my head, I mumbled, "Thank you. And if teasing me really does help you, then you're welcome to tease me whenever you'd like."

James laughed, a sound that seemed foreign to my ears at the moment. "Whenever I'd like? So, I could walk in while you're showering and tease you then?"

I lifted my hands to my face, covering my flaming cheeks, and groaned. "No. Tease me about _whatever_ you'd like…just not _whenever _you'd like."

He nodded, and turned to face me, taking a sip of the butterbeer. "Even about your books?"

"Yes, even about my books," I laughed. "Do you really think they're trash?" I asked, without thinking.

"They're not _trash_," he said carefully. "But they have absolutely no concept of what love really is."

I scoffed. "Explain."

"They're just…completely unrealistic. Love isn't like that."

I cocked my head. "Love isn't like what?"

"That dramatic, that intriguing. Love is much more…natural."

"So you're saying that it's boring?"

James shook his head, and settled his back against the couch. "I'm saying the opposite – that love is amazing because it's not some elaborate plot, because it hasn't be carefully constructed beforehand, because it just…happens."

I sighed. "Oh, no. I have my entire love life planned out. It's been carefully constructed beforehand, and it's _exactly_ what I want. And once I find it, it'll be amazing."

"Love isn't something you plan, Lil. It's not something you can jot down on a "to-do" list. That's the beauty of it. That's what makes it so special; it happens when you least expect it to. No amount of _planning_ will suffice. It just happens…and when it does, it's incredible and powerful and mystifying. Better than any plan you think of, better because it's _not_ a plan you thought of."

"How do you know?" I countered. "Have you ever been in love?"

James closed his eyes and fiddled almost nervously with his hands. "No," he said finally. "I haven't. Have you?"

I sensed there was more to it, but I let it go. I'd learned enough secrets about James tonight. I didn't know if I could handle more. I decided to answer his question instead. "No, I've never…either."

"So then I guess neither or us are qualified enough to make a fair assessment on love."

"True, but, I still think I'm right."

James opened an eye. "That's what you thought about your speech, too," he teased.

I groaned as he laughed. "Not the damned speech. That was almost a _month_ ago."

"Yes. But you never admitted I was right." He smirked at me again, and if today's "incident" had never happened, I might have been angry at it. Instead, I was happy to see us falling back into our old routine. I was even more thrilled to know that we _had_ a routine.

"Well, I used it, didn't I?"

"Ah, but, you never said I was right." He poked me in the shoulder. "Come on, you're a month overdue, admit it – I was right."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "No."

"Do it. Or I'll …I'll tickle you." He grinned smugly.

I tried to ignore the little voice in my head – one that sounded suspiciously like Sophie – that was thrilled to pieces at the prospect of James tickling me. "I'm not ticklish," I said, almost proudly.

"Fine, then, I'll read out all the naughty bits from your sex books."

"They're not sex books!"

James rolled his eyes. "Right, I forgot - your "making love" books."

"You wouldn't do it," I challenged.

He grinned at me, his eyes sparkling. "Is that a dare, Lily?"

I met his smirk with one of my own. "You're supposed to be smart, James. Figure it out –"

_Tap._

"What is that?" I asked, looking around the room when I heard it again.

James shrugged. "I have no clue."

The sound came again. "It sounds like an –"

"Oh God," James breathed, looking towards the balcony doors.

I followed his gaze, barely making out the small, tawny owl hovering by the doors. "Oh, it's just an owl." I got up to let the owl in, but his warm hand wrapped around my wrist, stopping me.

"Don't," he whispered.

I furrowed my brows in confusion. "Why? It's probably got a letter –"

James stood up on shaky legs, staring at the bird. "That's Evelien's owl."

"Oh." I stood where I was, watching as James opened the doors and took the envelope from the owl.

"Hello, Ollie," he murmured, stroking the owl before it flew off.

I bit my lips nervously when James took out the parchment and began reading, his hands practically glued to his hair. His eyes scanned the lines quickly, his face quickly returning to the defeated, haunted look I'd seen when I saw him in front of the fire. He looked up suddenly, crumpling the paper before shoving it into his pocket and striding angrily across the room.

"James," I called, grabbing his arm as he shot by me.

He shrugged out of my grasp, grabbedhis broom, and stalked off. I told myself not too feel too hurt, that he probably needed to be left alone, that he didn't meant anything by pulling away, but it didn't help. He paused only when he reached the door. "I'm sorry," he mumbled, not turning around. "I just…I have to go," he whispered feebly.

I walked towards him uncertainly. "James, what's going on? Is she–"

"Please, Lily. I need to…fly. I've got to go and–"

"But is-"

"Just leave it," he murmured. "Please."

I couldn't, though, even though I should have known by now that the safest thing to do was to listen to him. "But-"

"Here," he sighed, fishing the crumpled letter from his pocket.

I took it, surprised. "Are you sure?" I whispered. I wanted answers, desperately, but I didn't want to force James to give them to me.

"Yeah. Lily, I've got to," he murmured in a strained voice. "I have to get out of here."

I nodded. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I don't know. I have to get out there, Lil, I've got to…fly. I need to be in the air. I've got to go," he repeated before turning to the door again.

"James," I whispered, unsure of what to say, or do, or even think.

He opened the door, looking back towards me. He looked as if he was trying to decided something, and quickly, almost as if he wanted to do it before he changed his mind, he crossed the few feet that separated us, and before I could even begin to think about what he would do, he kissed my forehead so softly that I wasn't even sure I felt it.

Then he was gone, and I was left standing by the door, my forehead tingling and a strangely pleasant feeling humming through my body, a crumpled letter from a child I didn't even know lying in my hand…feeling more lost than ever.

* * *

_Dear Jamie,_

_I was checked out by another medi-witch today. Mum won't tell me what she said, so I know it's bad. I don't think she told you, either, or I'd have heard from you by now. She just doesn't want you to worry; so please don't be upset with her for not telling you. I don't want you to worry either, Jamie, but I know you will. I know you're going crazy reading this…your hands are probably in your hair right now._

_I know you're all worried what'll happen to me. I can see it in your eyes, even though I know you'd never say anything. Sirius especially. And you…you just try so hard not to even think about of it. Well, don't, Jamie. It's okay to sometimes. And it's okay to be scared and worried. I am, too, a little. I'm just afraid of time, of not having enough of it, not being able to do all that I want. But everything's going to be okay. And even if it won't…well, it still will be._

_I love you, Jamie. No matter what happens._

_Love Always,  
Evey_

_PS – Tell Sirius that his good luck charm loves him as well._

I folded up the letter, dabbing at my eyes. How could a ten year old girl be so strong? Knowing that she could die at any moment, knowing all that she was leaving behind – how could she handle it? How could James handle it? How could anyone? The Potter's were the strongest people I could think of. And James? He was…amazing. To be so strong, so unwavering through all this…it was unbelievable.

I couldn't in a million years imagine being able to handle half as much as James and not become bitter about it. He took life as it came, accepting things for what they were, helping _other_ people when his problems were so great.

I'd never met anyone like him before.

And for the first time, I was glad for it.

* * *

**So I guess this chapter was a bit surprising for new readers? Not to worry though, there will be plenty of fluff to balance out the new angst, and while Evelien _is_ in the next chapter, the _clear_ focus will be Lily and James. In fact, we are going to see…a whole new side of James, one that isn't normally…viewed. .:snickersnort:. That was probably a most terrible pun, but those of you that have already chapter four (KAT!) know _exactly_ what I'm taking about.**

**Don't forget to check my live journal for review responses in a few days, and I'm giving away sneak peaks, for both new and old readers. So, if you're interested, the link's in my author bio, as always.**

**Reviews are love. Winkwink. **

**Love all you lovelies.  
- Ers**


	4. Drippy Towels and Fluttery Feelings

**Yes, yes, I know, I know. I update too slowly, I suck, why does it take me so long to edit a simple chapter, etc. etc. I can do nothing but apologize as per usual, and just reiterate the fact that I've been really, ridiculously busy. Junior year is going to _kill _me, and the two APs, college classes, and after school shows aren't really helping. The story HAD to take a backseat, because my future really is just more important, and everything I'm doing this year is basically shaping it. **

**I've been trying, I really have, to juggle school, a social life, and my writing all at once, but there just aren't enough hours in the day, you know? The good news is that, even though it's been slow in coming, I've been working on chapter six while editing four and five simultaneously, so chapter six is well on its way to being done. I'm actually slightly proud of it, to tell you the truth.**

**Now, I know this in no way makes up for the astonishingly long wait for THIS chapter, but it's the only thing I can offer. That and the fact that this chapter is sixteen pages long, in 7.5 Georgia font.**

**I'm still going to be giving sneak peaks away, and I'm vowing to spend more time on my LJ, and actually update it every now and then. **

**Now, this is the part where I get on my knees and thank two people so profusely that it becomes pathetic.****Selly** – **No one else will look forward to my four am freak outs over finding another word for pity like you. And while this should only make you crazy, it also makes me love you and your awesome editing abilities, and the fact that you just ARE a walking thesaurus. WORD UP, G.  
****Kat – Man oh man, where would I be without you? Well, first off, this chapter would have at least 77 more commas, and about 38 more semicolons, not to mention some horrible spelling and grammar atrocities. It thrills me to see your "**_**Bold, Italic, Size Twelve Font Parentheses"** **in my emails. And it sounds sick, but no, I'm not kidding. I looooove you, Katizzle, and my story would be no where without you. **_

**Leditor** **from the Editor:  
**"wassup ma peeps? how it be rockin? i be mad tite, juss rockin n rollin and doin all kinda things. well, this be the mad updated rockin chapta foe. it be mad updated and stizzuff. we be hopin you be likin this. It would be mad tite if you g's could leave yo numba n tell us what u be thinkin n if yous be likin it. holla back son.

TRANSLATION:  
Hey, guys. What's going on with you? I'm good, just keeping on keeping on. Well, this is the updated version of chapter four. It's really different, and we hope you like it. It would be really great if you left feedback and told us what you thought.

WHAT CAUSED ME TO THINK I WAS MAD GANGSTER:  
Erica (11:57:33 AM): WORD UP, G!  
Sel (11:57:40 AM): did you already pizzost chapter 4 or is thissizz a new chappie?  
Erica (11:58:27 AM): it's the remix, son. old shit, reworded. DAWG.  
Sel (11:59:13 AM): HOMMIE!  
Sel (11:59:16 AM): THATS MAD PIMP.  
Erica (12:00:01 PM): yo, i know son, i know, it's madddd g.

Holla foo's."

**Letta**' **from the BETA:  
**"Yo, chicks and chicos. Uh... yo. I be Kat, the BETA as yall like... know and stuff. I've absolutely no idea what to say, and so can't top the Letidors from the Editor, but hey! So, what's up with me since very few of yall actually know me... I don't think. Maybe? I don't know. I'm seventeen, and I'm a redneck, and it rocks. Yo. This would be longer, but you know what? I'm fixin' to watch Attila, which has the schmazzy Gerard Butler in it (he's my whore... long story. Well, not really. Ha), and he's like shirtless and stuff, so yes. Enjoy le chapter. Erica is awesome, like whoah. It's my FAVORITE chapter in the story thus far, 'cause it's super schmexy schtuff. I swear. Aaaah. Lovely fluff.

Cloud, Leon, and a pirate hooker,  
--Kat"

These girlies amuse me like no one else.

Now I've said basically all there is to say, they've said all there is to say . . . on with the chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Four: **Dripping Towels and Fluttery Feelings

Sometime during the seasonally transitional months between October and December, an amazing transformation had occurred that had nothing to do with the seasons, or the weather, or the change of scenery. James and I had quickly progressed from mere dorm mates to friends. Good friends. Very good friends, in fact.

And no one was more surprised by this than myself.

Even more surprising was that we did, after all, have some things in common. We even found some of the same things funny. More than once in classes, the teacher would say something, or I would notice someone, and it would be so hysterical to me that I'd have to practically stuff my fist into my mouth to keep from embarrassing myself, while the rest of the class remained unawares. But then I'd turn around to look at James, to see his shoulders shaking with barely constrained laughter. And we would glance at each other and smile as if sharing the most secret joke in the world.

Even more often, I'd be somewhere with Sophie and turn around to find James smiling at me across the table, down the hall, inside the Charms classroom. If he was standing behind me, he'd poke my shoulder, or touch my hip, or nudge my waist with his own, just to let me know he was near. It was very comforting to know he was usually just a smile, a look, or a touch away.

He still teased me, and I still pretended to hate it; though, I think we both knew how much I secretly loved it. He would easily infuriate me with his laid back view of everything, his carefree attitude, and his cocky grin. We would still pointlessly debate about the most mundane things. Sometimes I won, and sometimes he did, but he always, _always_ made me see his point. James could easily rile me up, and he knew it. It was never cruel or mean or anything more than teasing, but sometimes he did take it too far. But then he'd do something charming or so ridiculously sweet to make up for it that I found myself forgetting what he did to make me mad in the first place.

Sometimes he'd sneak out at night when he thought I was asleep and come back to close to three in the morning. He'd creep into my room and place something on my dresser while I lay there trying my hardest not to smile. In the morning I'd always wake up to see my alarm clock and a package of sugar quills sitting innocently next to it. He never told me how he did it, and I never asked. It was, strangely enough, one of the very few things I didn't want all the answers to.

I did have to wonder how much of this friendship was simply out of necessity. We did live together; we did work and study together. Would we really have been the same type of friends without these circumstances? But that wasn't even the biggest of my worries. No, the most unnerving thing was how easily I got used to him just _being there_, how dependent I was getting on being able to count on James for everything. After all, there was no way that James Potter, boy wonder, would ever need me as much as I needed him. That was the hardest part to admit - that I needed James. I needed that reassuring smile at every prefect meeting; I needed every secret laugh during class, every wink across the hall, every fleeting touch on my arm to keep me sane. I needed to have him as my friend; I wanted to have him as my friend. I liked being part of the growing whirlwind that was his life.

And though I'd never admit it to anyone, I was beginning to enjoy getting caught up in the magic that was James Potter.

* * *

"Oooh, Lily! This one will look so nice on you!" exclaimed a squealing Sophie as she dragged me to a stack of black dress robes. She shuffled expertly through the clothes, locating my size.

I stared at the robes dangling off the hanger in her hand while wondering why the intricate embroidery and clean cut design didn't excite me. "I don't know, Soph. It's just… I don't know."

She sighed, sliding the robes back into place. "You've said that about the past six dresses, Lily. Pick one already, would you?"

"I can't just _pick_ one. This is the most important event so far this year. It has to be perfect."

And it did. I'd been planning this Winter Ball with James for _months_ per Professor McGonagall's request. I'd been killing myself – and James, a bit, too – getting the band, the music, the food, the decorations…It was a hectic two months and with only two weeks left till the ball, things were only getting worse. I had never seen the prefects so divided. The Muggleborns wanted it to be Muggle dress; the Purebloods wanted dress robes only. The Ravenclaws only wanted it to be open to seventh years while the Hufflepuffs wanted it to be open to fourth year and up. The teachers didn't like the band that was playing; the prefects didn't like that it would end at midnight…and the list went on and on.

James found it amusing - my slowly reaching insanity - and told me so on more than one occasion. His only response to my screaming, ranting, and raving was telling me to lighten up. He thought I was taking this too seriously. Maybe I was. But, this was my first event as Head Girl. The way the rest of the school viewed me and my ideas all depended on this one ball. No one seemed to understand that.

"Fine," said Sophie, apparently giving up. "_You_ find something to wear."

"Soph –"

"Lily, I'm worried about you," she whispered. She grabbed my hand, tugging me over to the dressing rooms. "You're not eating right – when you _do_ happen to eat that is, you're barely getting any sleep, you don't pay attention in class, you spend all your free time on that balcony of yours, scribbling notes for this stupid ball – "

"I do not!" I replied indignantly, even though, of course, it was true. But Sophie didn't need to know that.

Her eyes narrowed and she pulled me into a dressing room before replying. "Don't lie to me. First off, I can tell when you do, and secondly, James can vouch for everything I've just said."

"James?" I whispered right back, "What does _he_ have to do with anything?"

"He was the one told me about you hauling yourself away –"

I was having a hard figuring out why James would even notice. "He talked to you about me?"

She sighed, rubbing her temples. "Yes, Lily. He talked to me about you. He's worried about you, too. And if you hadn't spent all your time going crazy over this ball, you would've known that."

"You don't _get it_," I whined. "None of you get it."

"Get what, Lily?" she asked calmly.

I sat down on the chair staring at my face in the mirror and really seeing for the first time how terrible I looked. I seemed thinner, though not in a good way; my hair was thrown into a haphazard ponytail, as though I simply hadn't cared to do anything else with it; my normally light skin looked paler somehow, and even the freckles sprinkled across my face look sickly. My eyes looked almost gaunt and sunken in, and since when did I have bag under my eyes?

I took a few minutes before I answered. "This ball is going to alter how everyone views me as Head Girl. It's going to be the deciding factor on whether or not they can look back and say that I was amazing…or say that I should've never even tried. I want them to think I'm amazing, Sophie – so much."

Her eyes were sympathetic. "I understand that; really, I do. But it's not as important as your health."

"My health is fine. Really. I swear, I didn't even notice that anything was wrong until you brought it up."

She looked at me as if trying to decide something. "You're not going to work on the ball at all today."

"What are you talking about?"

Sophie grabbed my arm again, pulling me into a standing position. "The first thing you are going to do is find a dress. And you _will_ find one. Then, you're going back to the castle, eating a nice, long, full meal, and then you are going to have a much needed rest. After that, you can worry about the ball all you want."

I shook my head furiously as she dragged me out of the dressing room and into the store, shifting through dress robes. "No, I can't do that, Sophie. I have to see if the decorations have been delivered yet, and James and I need to pick out a centerpiece for the tables, and I need to ask Dumbledore if it'd be alright to have snowflakes falling from the ceiling and…what are you doing?"

Sophie looked up from the dress that she was currently piling onto my arm – one of many it seemed. "_I_ am finding you a dress to wear since you're too inept to do it yourself. And I meant it when I said no talk about this ball."

"But –"

She sent me a glare and pushed a green dress robe with lace trim into my hand. "Shut up."

"Sophie, I am perfectly capable of finding my own dress."

She raised her eyebrow. "Then why have we been here for two hours already?"

I felt my face heat up. "Because nothing in here is…perfect enough."

"Nothing's perfect enough for you," she said, rolling her eyes.

I gently put the dresses onto a nearby chair. "Thanks for taking care of me, Sophie. Really, it means a lot. But I can find a dress on my own. You know me. I want things a certain way, and sometimes, I'm not sure what way until I see it. Something like this," I gestured to the racks of clothing, "is definitely one of those things I've got to find on my own."

"Fine," she grumbled. "I'll give you twenty minutes to find a dress on your own. After that, you've got to try on these."

I smiled. "Thanks. I mean it."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, I was wishing I'd already tried on the dresses Sophie picked out and let that have been the end of it. I wasn't quite sure _what_ I wanted to wear, but so far I hadn't seen it. And then…I saw it. It was propped up on a mannequin in the far corner of the store, as if it was too important to be with all the other dress robes. I couldn't imagine why – with its pink flowers, carefully embroidered on the white satin of the dress, and its smooth lines and seams – it certainly wasn't anything extraordinary, or different. But it was so nice to me, and it looked so pretty, and for some reason that I couldn't quite put my finger on, I had a feeling that it would fit and compliment me.

"Oh, that's a great one, you've found, m'dear," a raspy voiced said from somewhere.

I turned from the dress, seeing the plump old lady who must have owned the shop. "How much is it?" I breathed, fingering the smooth material.

"400 Galleons," came the reply.

I nearly choked. 400 Galleons could have bought me a whole Quidditch team, practically. "Oh," I said, disappointment lining my voice.

"'Tis no ordinary dress, dearie," she explained. "It's magically designed to modify itself to fit the wearer. No alterations would need to be done, no charms used to get rid of unwanted weight…it does it all on its own."

"Can I try it on?" I nearly begged. "Please?"

She smiled as if I wasn't the first person to want to try on a dress that I knew I could never afford. "Of course, Love."

It _was_ a beautiful dress, I mused, staring at myself in the mirror for the second time that day. The bodice fit me well; it was tight enough to have a slimming effect, and yet it didn't make it seem as if I was wearing a corset. It flared out from waist, not too much, not too little, and with the right hair style it would have been…perfect.

"It looks amazing, Lily," Sophie said, when I stepped out of the dressing room. "You look so…elegant."

Elegant was a good word for it, I thought, as I stood in front of the three way mirror, fiddling with my hair to see what would work best.

"Down," Sophie said, motioning to my hair. "Down and curling would look best."

I nodded, twirling around in the dress, wishing that I could have gotten it. No matter what angle you looked at it from, it was beautiful.

"You're right, James. She _is_ pretty."

I turned, startled at the voice – the younger, childlike voice. My heart pounding wildly, I stared at James, who stood there grinning like an idiot – albeit a very cute one – his hand clasped protectively around a much smaller one. One that belonged to a smiling girl who looked to be around ten years old. She had the same messy black hair as James, though hers was more feminine and much thinner. Her hazel eyes looked sunken in, and though she was smiling as widely as James, she still looked sad.

I stood there, transfixed and unable to say anything. It was Evelien. It had to be. I doubted James was friends with very many ten year olds that just happened to look like him. I knew I should've said something, knew I should've done more than stand like a lump, but I couldn't. What was a person supposed to say to a ten year old girl who was very possibly dying? Nothing seemed appropriate enough.

Gingerly touching the soft material of the skirt, Evelien stepped forward, her eyes wide. "That dress makes you look beautiful."

Her bold comment surprised me and I felt my face heat up. "You're just like your brother," I mumbled sheepishly.

She looked confused. "James tells you that you look beautiful?"

I turned even redder. "No. You both make me blush," I corrected.

"I'm confused," said Sophie, looking from James to me, to Evelien and then back to me.

James smiled, placing his hands on Evelien's shoulders. "This is my sister, Evelien."

"_This_ is your sister?" exclaimed Sophie, as she studied the two of them. "Well, it makes sense, I guess. You look alike. I mean, hi, nice to meet you."

He smiled, as he ruffled Evelien's hair. "And to think - all this time, I thought she was adopted."

We all laughed and I struggled to say something as a tense silence passed between us. My mind screamed at me to say something, _anything_ to her, but I was drawing a blank. Holding a conversation with a ten year old child who just happens to be struggling with cancer was not something I normally had to deal with. But I couldn't just stand there like an oaf – even though I was doing a pretty good job of it so far. And then, before I could stop myself, I blurted, "So how are you feeling…Not that you aren't feeling fine - just that I wanted to know if you're feeling okay. Not that you shouldn't feel okay or anything. You definitely should. You probably are – feeling okay, that is."

Well, wasn't that just the _most_ articulate sentence known to man?

Sophie gaped at me. James shook his head in a pitying way. Evelien just stared … and then she sighed. "He told you, didn't he?"

I snapped my head back towards James, whose smile was rapidly diminishing. "Yeah, I didn't think it would be a problem – "

"Problem?" She was looking at James now. "It's not a problem until someone starts acting like…like _that_."

"Like what?" asked Sophie, looking confused all over again. Of course she'd look confused. She had no idea about Evelien. How could she? I could never even bring myself to tell her.

Evelien looked back at me. "Like I'm some delicate piece of glass that has to be carefully handled. No one wants to say anything wrong to me, no one wants to upset me…"She wiped furiously at her eyes, and my heart broke a little, watching James' face crumble as she did so. "I'm so sick of it! I'm not going to _die_ if you make me mad or say something wrong, so don't act like I will."

"Oh, Evey," sighed James, sitting on his knees in front of her. He hugged her tightly, closing his eyes. "We know that."

"I didn't mean anything by it," I blurted. "I mean, I didn't mean anything _bad_ by it. But I didn't. . .I'm just. . . I'm sorry."

Evelien broke away from her brother, coming to stand in front of me. "You don't have to apologize. It's all right to upset me; even though you didn't."

Sophie was staring at me as if I'd suddenly declared my love for Severus Snape. I ignored her. "Well, it's not a very smart thing to do – asking a child with cancer how she's feeling – "

I heard Sophie gasp. "You. . . you have. . . cancer?"

James looked at me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "You didn't tell her about Evey?"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I figured there was a reason only a few people knew. I wasn't sure if it was okay to tell anyone or not."

"It is. It's not a secret," sighed Evelien.

"I just wasn't sure if – "

A load wailing interrupted my sentence. "JAMES HERMAN POTTER!"

We all stared at his wrist, which was currently glowing red thanks to the watch vibrating on his skin. "YOU _DO_ REALIZE THAT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO MEET SIRIUS _TEN _MINUTES AGO, DON'T YOU? GET YOUR FAT ARSE OUT OF THIS SHOP BEFORE I TELL EVERYONE _ALL_ ABOUT THE TIME WHEN YOU ACCIDENTALLY VANISHED YOUR –"

It stopped moving all of a sudden, and we all looked at James, whose face was rapidly turning a rather interesting shade of red. We were silent as well as the rest of the shop and the small crowd that had gathered to see the commotion.

And then Sophie started to laugh. First it was a giggle, then a chuckle, and soon she was clutching her sides and leaning against the wall. And then we were all laughing, holding out stomachs and howling with laughter at all the strange looks we were receiving.

"That was bloody brilliant," gasped Sophie, when our laughter finally subsided a bit.

"I should hope so, with all that work he put into making it," said Evelien, rolling her eyes slightly.

"You _made_ that watch?" I was shocked. I figured that watch was a product from Zonko's, or something of that sort.

"Yeah," James muttered sheepishly, bringing his hand behind his neck. He looked decidedly uncomfortable, but very adorably so. "Sorta. Evey gave me the watch. I just charmed it."

Evelien grinned. "_Just_ charmed it?" She turned to us, a wide smile on her face. "He spent the whole ruddy summer figuring out what spells to use. He even came up with a few of his own. My brother's a downright genius." I couldn't help but agree.

He ruffled her hair, turning more crimson by the moment. "I wouldn't say _genius_. . . You guys can, though; I don't mind. "

"You are a genius, though," said Sophie. "That was the most fantastic thing."

"I'm glad you think so, because I have a feeling you're getting another round."

"What?"

"DID YOU THINK I WAS JOKING WHEN I SAID I'D TELL THEM ABOUT YOUR UNFORTUNATE ENCOUNTER WITH THE MARSHMALLOW FLUFF- COVERED WAND AND YOUR –"

But then, James was frantically pushing the buttons on the watch, grabbing Evelien's hand, and running with her out the door. He barely had time to yell, "Bye, Lil. I'll see you at the school!" before the shop door closed behind him.

I looked at Sophie. She looked back at me. "Marshmallow-covered wands?"

Then we both promptly burst out laughing.

* * *

"Remember what I said," warned Sophie, as we reached the statue of Sally the Sober. "NO. WORKING. ON. THE. BALL. Not even a thought about it."

"I got it, Soph. No working on the ball." I crossed my fingers behind my back, offering her a smile. "I'll see you tomorrow," I called as I walked into the room.

"Bye," she called over her shoulder. "And I don't care that your fingers are crossed – no working on the ball!"

I laughed as the statue slid back into place. Only Sophie would know what I was doing without seeing it.

"Hello?" I called, balancing my shopping bags on my arms. "James?"

Silence. He must still be in Hogsmeade. I made my way up the stairs, nudging my door open with my shoulder. I placed the bags on my bed, carefully removing my dress robes from them. The dress Sophie and I finally settled was nice. I picked it up by its hanger, fitting to my body: such a dark green it was almost black, a flowy cut that fit . . . nicely. I had a black pair of shoes that would look nice with it. If I put my hair back with the green clip Sophie found for me, I would look really . . . _nice_. It was how the entire evening was destined to be.

Nice.

There's nothing wrong with _nice_. But _nice _isn't _perfect_. It was something I was having trouble dealing with. After all my work, my effort, my time - the very least I deserved was the perfect dress. The perfect 400 galleon dress. I placed the robes in my closet, taking the rest of my purchases out, too.

_Thump_.

I dropped the bag in my hand, my heart thumping wildly. What was that?

"OOF!"

I turned around so quickly, I was sure that I cracked something. But it hardly mattered. Someone was in the Head Room.

I placed the rest of the bags down as quietly as I could, instinctively grabbing my wand from my pocket. I gripped it with sweating palms, turning around at odd intervals.

_Thump._

I moved frantically to my right where the sound seemed to have come from. I was terrified - scared out of my mind. There was somebody in the bathroom. What if it was a murderer, or an escaped convict, or. . ..Oh god. I was seventeen, I was cute, and I was alone with someone who could have possibly been a criminal. What if he had escaped from Azkaban and had come to rape me! What if he was planning to kidnap me and hold me for a ransom of 400 galleons? What if he was going to use that money to buy his daughter that unbelievable dress!

Oh hell, no. No one was going to have that dress. Especially not some daughter of an ax murderer/escaped convict who was going to rape me and kidnap me and hold me for a ransom!

With a shaking hand, I opened the bathroom door. I turned the knob slowly, and walked in, my wand out stretched, trying to settle on the most effective hex to use. I gasped at what greeted me. Scary thing was, what greeted me wasn't a rapist, or a kidnapper, or even an escaped convict.

No, it was much, much worse.

What greeted me was James Potter.  
In a towel.  
Dripping wet.  
In a towel.

OH. MY. GOD.  
I was. . .and he was. . .and it was. . .and I just. . .and. . ..  
No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

I could not be walking in on gorgeous men in towels.  
Dripping wet.  
In towels.

There was no way that living beneath the skinny boy with messy black hair was. . ._that_.

Not that I was gawking, of course. Not that I was stunned this had been underneath Hogwarts robes all along. Not that I was wondering how best to tell Dumbledore to do away with boy's uniforms all together and just have them walk around in towels all day. Not that James was fit and lean. Not that his shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, and the muscles in between were amazingly defined. Not that in some hormone induced part of my mind I was vaguely wondering what it would feel like to have those muscles tensing under my hand. Not that I was watching a water droplet as it practically danced it's way along his chest and abdomen and then tauntingly disappeared beneath his towel. Not that I turned red as I mentally wished for the stupid cloth to fall. Not that I was stunned by how incredibly sexy James looked wet.

No. Not at all.

The fact that James Potter was standing not five feet away from me in nothing but a fluffy, white piece of cotton was doing absolutely nothing to me or my hormones. I didn't want to ravage him and do ungodly things to him that I'm sure were illegal in many parts of the world.

No. Not at all.

"Lily?"

"Huh?" I looked up. . .Oh god. I had to look up. Look up from. . ._that_. Oh god.

"Is there a reason you walked into a bathroom that was clearly occupied?" He looked amused. Well, good for him! He wasn't the one staring at himself in a towel. . . Not that I was still staring, of course.

"I. . .uh, heard something. I thought someone was in here and. . ." I trailed off, as he walked back towards the shower. _DON'T LOOK AT HIS ARSE! I mentally screamed at myself, trying to avert my eyes. _"What are you, uh, doing?"

He bent down to pick something up before straightening. He looked at me with a smirk, a bar of soap in his hand. "I dropped this. That's probably what you heard."

"Oh. . ..But. I thought you were still in, uh, Hog-Hogsmeade." I weakly felt around behind my body, hoping there was a wall that would support just in case I was to fall. Or faint. Which ever came first.

"I dropped Evelien off to hang out with Sirius. I figured I'd have a quick shower before I went to say bye to her."

Shower. Of course. It was what people did in big bathrooms that caused them to come out dripping wet and gorgeous and in towels.

James grabbed a hand towel and began drying out his hair. His adorably messy, black, dripping hair.

"I should probably go then. . ." I didn't move.

He turned to me, a lopsided grin on his face. "Unless you'd like to stay and watch."

"No. . .that's okay. I think I'll just. . .go." I couldn't move my feet though. My entire body seemed to be immobilized and focused on James.

"Lil?" He questioned when I didn't move.

"Sorry. I'll just go. . .now."

I nearly tripped over myself in my haste to get out.

I leaned against the bathroom door, willing my heart to stop beating so damned fast. I heard the unmistakable sound of a towel being dropped and I groaned. I dug my palms into my eyes, hoping that it would stop the incredible images that assaulted me. Why did James have to be so. . .so. . ._so bloody sexy_? It terrified me that I thought James Potter – James Potter who helped me with my speeches, who teased me about my books, who had a sister with cancer, who was infuriating to the point of pain, who thought I was _cute_ when I blushed. . .was sexy. Sexy and dripping wet and quite possibly naked, only three feet away.

Oh God.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, I was sprawled across my bed, shopping bags and their various items lining the floor. I was supposed to be sleeping – I was certainly drained enough. But, my mind was reeling, and oddly enough I kept seeing water droplets clinging to a decidedly fit torso whenever my eyes were closed - as they happened to be at the moment. And as nice as it was to see, it was a bit unnerving that it was _all_ I could see.

"Oh, bloody buggering hell!"

I opened my eyes with a start…

…And wished I never had eyes to begin with.

It wasn't exactly the most _comfortable_ thing, having the person that you were trying the hardest NOT to think about (and failing miserably), standing in your doorway. Well, _lying_ was more accurate since James was sort of stretched across the floor, a familiar looking black material on his head.

"_WHAT _are you doing in my room? Don't you know how to knock? What if I was changing or something!"

He sent me a glare from his spot on the floor, the material on his head falling off as he stood up. "I came in here to make sure you were sleeping, and the door was open. Besides, you've already seen me half naked, so I guess it's only fair that I have the same liberties. And, yes, I'm fine. Thanks for asking."

I stood up grumpily, practically _forcing_ my mind to stop showing me the images of James in a towel. "It's not my fault you can't walk properly."

"Oh, is that the thanks I get for checking up on you? I wanted to make sure you were sleeping like you promised Sophie you'd be doing, only to have bloody SHOPPING BAGS littering the floor. By the way," he bent down to grab something off the floor, "you might want to keep a closer eye on your…err…"

I looked at his hand, which my new black bra happened in, and felt my face heat up. "Give me that," I hissed. "You shouldn't be going through my stuff."

"Going through your stuff? Lil, it fell on my HEAD. Trust me, it wasn't intentional."

"_This_ was on your head? Smashing. I'll have to boil it before I can wear it again."

He grinned, and leaned against the bed frame. "Don't be so melodramatic. I can think of worse places for it to be."

I groaned as I brushed past him, picking up the shopping bags. "Spare me."

"On Snivellus' head, for instance," he went on, pretending he didn't hear me. "No amount of boiling will help you get that oil off, let me tell you that. And can you imagine _wearing_ it?" James shuddered. "It'd be a right nightmare."

"Oh God. Enough already." I barely suppressed a shudder myself. "I don't want to hear anything else about my bras and Severus Snape's relation to them."

"What's the matter, Evans? Can't take the oily visual?"

I ignored him and went about placing the bags into the closet, while James made himself perfectly comfortable on my bed. It was a little weird, having him look oh so comfortable in my bed, where I just was a minute ago, determined not to think of him. I thought of the soap he was using. What did it smell like? Would his scent be on my sheets? Or did that only happen when you had sex? That would be disappointing, really, because, I was sure that smelling James on my pillow would be very nice indeed. And then, I remembered something. "How did you know I promised Sophie that I'd go to sleep?"

"What?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he propped himself against my pillows.

"You said that you came in here to make sure I was sleeping, like I promised Sophie. How did you know I promised Sophie?"

"I was –"

"Were you listening to our conversation?" I demanded, suddenly angered. "Were you just hiding out somewhere, hoping I wouldn't notice?"

"No, Lil –"

"Because that's really low," I continued, ignoring him even as I turned to the bed and walked towards him. "Honestly! Listening to a private conversation . . . How rude can you get, James –"

He grabbed my flailing hands, when I was in reach. "I _asked_ Sophie to talk to you."

"-And what if you heard something secret? What would you have done…Wait. What?"

James smiled. "I talked to Sophie about you. I told her to make you promise to get some rest." He grabbed my wrists, staring at them as he spoke. "I figured if anyone can get through to you it'd be her."

"How did you know she'd be able to get through to me?" I asked.

"She's your best friend, isn't she?"

"But," I was staring at our hands, too, wondering why I liked the image so much, "why would you talk to her?"

There was a faint red coloring on the very tips of his ears. "Isn't it obvious?"

"No."

"I was," he cleared his throat, lifting his head to look at me. "I was worried."

"Worried?" I echoed.

"Yeah." He had let go of my wrists, I noted with regret. "You've been running yourself dry these few months. You don't know when to stop and take some time for yourself. You worked so hard on this sodding ball that your friend had to _drag_ you away from your plans. You need to learn how to just _relax_ and _live_, Lily. You're wearing yourself out."

I didn't know how to respond. "Why are you so worried?"

James looked confused. "I just said that –"

"No, no, no. That's not what I mean." I shook my head to prove my point. "Why do . . . well. Why do you care?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Merlin, what a question. Why do I care?"

"Yes."

"Aren't we friends?" he inquired, drawing out the last word.

I nodded. "I guess you could call us that."

"You guess?"

"Well, I never really thought about it much, to tell you the truth." No, I just thought about him shirtless…Not something _friends_ normally did.

"How could you have not thought about it? We've only shared quarters for…What? Four months?" He waved his hands around, his face turning the slightest shade of pink. "You've seen me bloody _undressed;_ how could you _not_ have thought about it?"

"I don't know!" I suddenly felt awful. "I just never considered you enough of a friend to feel –"

"Not enough of a friend? I'm glad I mean so much to you." His voice was dripping with sarcasm.

"I didn't mean it like that, James, and you know it." Why was he getting angry? I _did_ consider him a friend; I just didn't think he considered me much of a good one.

"Oh, didn't you? It sounded perfectly natural when it came out of your mouth –"

"I just meant that I didn't think you cared about me, that's all!" I practically yelled. I was so sick of having everything I said taken the wrong way, so sick of not knowing what to say, so sick of this constant back and forth motion that had going on with James, just so sick of it all.

James stared at me, his eyes wide. "Why would you think that?"

"Well…I'm not – I'm not a very good friend," I said carefully, picking at my nails.

"Why would you think that?" he asked again.

I moved to sit on the bed. I felt tired all of a sudden. "I don't know…I just…I seem to upset you more than comfort you, and I _never_ know when to quit – you said so yourself – and I can never think of something to say, and I inadvertently insulted your sister that time, and I blush too much, and I read those books you don't like, and I walked in on you in a TOWEL, for Merlin's sake!"

James looked at me. "You're not serious, are you?" he laughed.

"Mostly."

He pushed my shoulders forcing me to sit on the bed. "Okay, first of all, I don't think you upset me all that much. Second of all, yes, it's true that you don't know when to stop, but that's what I'm here for - o shut you up when needed. Third of all…Okay, so the thing about Evey was stupid, but let's forget about that. Fourth of all, I told you before that you are positively adorable when you blush." I blushed again. "Fifth of all, your poor taste in "books" doesn't make you a bad friend. And sixth of all, I'm actually surprised that the little bathroom encounter didn't happen sooner."

"What's that supposed to mean? You weren't planning on walking in on me, or anything, were you? Because, I lock the door –"

He laughed and threw his head back, exposing his neck to me. Why didn't I notice what a sexy neck he had before? "No, Love, I wasn't planning on walking in on you. Although, if it just _happened_ to occur, one day…"

"James!" I shrieked, even as I laughed.

"Have you eaten?" he asked, abruptly.

"What?"

"Have…you…eaten?" he repeated, slower this time, as if he was talking to a toddler.

"Uh…Yes. Why?"

He crossed his arms over his chest. "What did you eat?"

I was confused with his new line of questioning. "Food?"

"Lily, you know what I mean," he sighed.

"I had a sugar quill at the dress shop."

"Well, come on then." He walked out the door, and I followed, against my better judgment.

"Where? What are you doing?"

He walked into his room as I stood by the door. "You don't think that a sugar quill counts as food, do you? What kind of friend would I be if I let you go to bed – which you will do after we come back – hungry?" He threw some clothes off his bed, apparently looking for something.

"James."

He moved to his closet, opening that and pushing things aside as well. "What?"

"It's after hours."

"So?" he questioned. "Damn it! Where is it?"

"So we won't be able to get into the Great Hall." I watched as he disappeared under his bed.

"You're forgetting something," he said, his voice muffled.

I raised an eyebrow as James emerged, stuffing a bit of parchment in his pocket. "What's that?"

He gave me a cheeky grin before brushing past me and flying out of the room. "I'm James Potter, Love."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I whined, all but stamping my foot and throwing a tantrum.

"It means that I've got other ways of getting you food." He stopped at the top of the stairs, looking at me expectantly. "Well? Are you coming or not?"

I was very reluctant but also very curious. Curiosity won out. "How many rules are we breaking?" I asked as we walked down the stairs.

He sent me a lopsided grin. "Not _too _many."

"How many, James?" I asked again.

He stopped at the door and smiled. "Lil, we're not going to get into trouble."

He turned around, obviously ready to leave. "But what if –"

"Trust me, okay? You won't get in trouble. Just…trust me."

James grinned at me, and I looked at him for a long time, though I already knew what my answer would be. "Okay."

He smiled and I could've sworn that my heart stopped beating for the tiniest second. "Come on. But you have to stay quiet. And stick close by."

"I thought you said we weren't going to get into trouble," I smirked, but followed him anyway.

"We won't get into trouble if we don't get caught," he countered.

I opened my mouth to say something, but he cut me off before I could. "And we won't get caught if you stay quiet." He turned to the left once we stood outside Sally's statue. "Now keep quiet."

"You're the one who's talking," I mumbled.

James glared at me. "I mean it." I rolled my eyes.

He stood there, listening for a few seconds. "Damn," he muttered.

"What?" I whispered, as quietly as I could.

"Close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

Mumbling obscenities under my breath, I did as he asked. I could hear the faint crinkling sound of parchment followed by some incoherent mumbing.

"Okay, good. Come on."

I opened my eyes, expecting to be somewhere else, or to have the corridor changed, or _something_, but it was exactly the same as before. "What did you do?" I asked, suspiciously.

"Nothing I just made sure we wouldn't get caught. Let's go, Filch won't be in his office forever."

"Where are we…Wait. How do you know Filch was in his office?"

"Lucky guess," he said nonchalantly.

I narrowed my eyes. "James," I hissed, "what are you _doing_?"

He sighed. "Don't you think I'd tell you if I could? I can't tell you, Lily."

I felt a dull throbbing in my head. "Why not?"

"Because," he sighed, running a hand over his face. "It's about my…I just…I can't tell you. I'm sorry, Love."

"Oh," I muttered, looking at the ground. I tried not to feel too disappointed. "Okay. Can you – can you just tell me where we're going?"

"The kitchens."

I grabbed his arm when he began to walk. "James, you _know_ we're not allowed to go down there!"

He took hold of my wrists again, holding them in front of me. "Relax, will you? We're Head Boy and Girl. You think anyone will care?"

"Yes! We aren't allowed to be there. Are you crazy? If we get caught-"

James smiled, shaking his head a little. "Then shut up and let's not get caught."

"But-"

He brought my hands up to his eye level. "Lily, do you trust me?"

My eyes flickered to his thumbs, which were currently gliding over my wrists in small circles. I tried to ignore how nice it felt. "Yes."

"Then don't worry." He brushed his mouth across my knuckles, ever so slightly, before releasing my hands. "I won't let you get into trouble."

I shivered from the intense look in his eyes, wanting to tell James that just being out here with him this late, having him practically kiss my hand…was causing more trouble than McGonagall ever would. But I didn't. "Okay," I breathed instead, following him as he tiptoed around the corridors.

It didn't make sense, this rolling in my stomach, this fluttery feeling I suddenly had. I reckon the thrill of doing something I wasn't supposed to – of being out of bed after hours, of sneaking into the kitchens – just had an effect on me. And, as much as I didn't want to admit it, maybe the good looking, grinning boy in front of me had something to do with it, too.

We walked along the dark corridor, trying to be as quiet as possible, which wasn't easy, considering we kept pausing at odd intervals, and that the pounding in my heart was sure to wake up half the school.

"Are you okay?" James asked me, as we hid behind a display of kiwi fruit. "I know this is such a walk on the wild side and all."

I would have hit him, if the small confinement of space enabled me to. I settled for glaring. "I've done more dangerous things than you think."

"Lily, walking into the wrong class doesn't count."

"That's not what I meant – "

"I assure you, Minerva, this ball will be wonderful. Miss Evans is putting a lot of her time into it."

James and I froze. My heart seemed to stop beating, and James' eyes were wider than I'd ever seen them. "Holy sh-"

He clamped a hand over my mouth, shoving us into a tiny nook in the wall. I groaned as my back hit the stone wall, and placed my hands on his chest to brace myself. "Sorry," he whispered.

I nearly stopped breathing when Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall walked past where we hiding, rambling about the ball.

"…really, just doing such a lovely job. The decorations are simply _magnificent_." Dumbledore looked over at us as I thudded into the stone wall. He saw us. I nearly wet myself. But he didn't start screaming and he didn't expel us. He _winked _and continued walking.

"Sssh," James whispered, his voice tickling my ear as his hand left my mouth. He moved a little, pushing me further into the wall, and further into him. I tried to ignore how close we were, how nice he smelled – all soapy, and musky, and undeniably James-like – how I could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, under my palm, how my gaze was level to very top of his neck, and how I was overcome with the sudden urge to kiss it, just there, beneath his chin.

"Let's wait a minute to make sure they're gone." His voice broke through my thoughts, and I shook my head, willing them from my mind. I was _not_ going to think about kissing James anywhere . . . No matter how delicious his neck loo-

No. Bad, Lily. Bad thoughts.

"Lil?" he questioned.

I blinked, looking up to see James' smiling face only inches away. He had a tiny little dimple in left cheek. Why hadn't I noticed it before? "Sorry, I…" I trailed off, unsure what to say, my eyes focused on that dimple. Then, before I could stop myself, my hand reached up. My fingers brushed across his cheek and fluttered over his lips for the briefest second, before trailing down the smooth column of his neck and resting against his chest again. I spread my fingers over his heart, feeling the beats quicken under my hand. I stared at it for a while, neither of us making any noise; James' ragged breathing as the only form of sound in the dark corridor.

I half expected him to say something, or to take my hand away. But, he just stood there, looking down at me, his hazel eyes seeming almost black in the darkness. My heart pounded away against my ribcage and it suddenly felt so hot in that tiny little corridor, so unbearably hot. That small expanse of neck was still staring at me, taunting me. I just couldn't help myself; I placed my lips there, just there, at the little spot by his pulse point. I felt him swallow, heard the tiny groan that escaped his lips.

I felt inexplicably powerful being able to cause that groan.

"Lily," he breathed, my name sounding so different tumbling from lips now than it did five minutes before.

I stared at him, taking in the pained, almost tortured look on his face. "Yes?" I whispered, unable to move.

He brushed my hair away from my face, playing with the strands. "Please, I…I need…" He gulped, bringing his hands to my face, his calloused thumbs sweeping across my cheeks. I shivered and my hands shook as I gripped his forearms, staring at him, watching his face come closer to mine.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew that there was something wrong with us standing there, with James smelling so nice, and looking so good, with us pressed together in a dark corridor, my hands on his arms, his on my face…But somehow, at that moment, I couldn't think of just what that was.

"Lily," he moved his hands from my face, placing them on my shoulders instead. "Can I…Please, can I just…"

I nodded, not sure of what he was asking or what I was agreeing to, or if we were even in the same dimension anymore. I had no control over my thoughts, or actions, or feelings; I didn't even know what was going on. "Yeah. It's…Yeah." I was whispering, speaking in broken sentences, moving my hands nervously around his arms.

He moved closer, his face so close that I could feel his breath on mine. I saw his lips move nearer, felt his arms go around my waist, heard his labored breathing…

"Dumbledore winked at us," I blurted out.

"What?" James lifted his head, looking confused, obviously wondering what the hell I was doing.

I wished I knew. "Dumbledore. He winked at us…When they walked by. He saw us standing there and he just…winked…" I broke away, rubbing my sweaty hands against my thighs.

"What are you talking about?"

I heard footsteps from around the corner, and James must've heard them too because he turned suddenly, staring at the corridor. We made to move again, but it was too late. Dumbledore rounded the hallway, giving us a curt nod.

"Good evening, Mister Potter, Miss Evans. Do return to your rooms before too long; most other teachers won't be as nearsighted as I am," he said with a gleam in his eye before walking down the corridor once again.

We stared at his retreating back. My heart pounded dully in my chest, and my mouth dropped open of its own accord. I couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't do anything but gape blankly ahead of me, trying to process what had happened in the last twenty minutes. Something about going into the kitchens, and yelling about getting caught, and a display with kiwi fruit, and kissing James' neck, and staring at his face, and Dumbledore walking by…It was just too much.

I heard James clear his throat. "Uh, Lily?"

I turned around. James had a hand curled behind his neck, standing sheepishly, his eyes looking everywhere but at me. It was adorable, and I hated myself for thinking it. "We should go…Go back to the, uh, place…where we live…"

"Please don't act differently," he nearly pleaded. "Please. I'm sorry about before…I didn't mean to try to…I'm sorry. Just please…God. Just don't act different around me."

I wanted to yell at him. I wanted to scream at him and tell him that it wasn't him, that I was feeling horrible over what _I'd _done - what I'd wanted to do. I kissed his bloody neck for Merlin's sake! And I'd liked it…I liked the way his skin felt, and I liked his reaction to it, and I liked the way he said my name. But I didn't – I _couldn't_ – like him.

I shook my head, backing up slowly. "I have to go, James. I can't…"

He grabbed my arm, dragging me over to him. His hand seemed to burn my skin, though not in an entirely unpleasant way. "No, don't. I couldn't handle that right now. I'm sorry; I just…Please don't act different. We'll pretend nothing happened, okay? We'll ignore…it. I just can't lose you…as a friend. Not now."

His voice was more desperate than I ever heard it. The conviction in it made me want to cry. "Yeah…Yeah, okay. I don't want to lose you either. As a friend," I added quickly. "I don't want to lose you as a friend."

James nodded, wrapping his arms around my waist, and bringing me close to him. He placed his chin atop my head and sighed. "You're a great person. I know you don't think it…but you are."

I returned his hug, my heart ready to burst. "Thank you. You…You're just amazing," my voice was muffled against his chest, and I knew I was turning red, but I went on anyway. "Really…just incredible. Thank you." I whispered it, half hoping he wouldn't hear.

He did. "For what?"

"For just being…You. For being who are, and for caring so damn much. Don't ever change, okay?"

He laughed quietly. "And risk the chance of not hearing that again? I'll stay the same. Just for you, Evans, I'll stay the same."

He gripped me a bit tighter, and I sighed, closing my eyes. My stomach fluttered again, but this time I knew it had nothing to do with being out late, or sneaking off someplace, or getting caught…and everything to do with the good looking, sighing boy in front of me.

James. It had everything to do with James.

* * *

**Ta da. There's definitely been more added, and lots more fluff. I hope you liked this version better, because I sure did.**

**Be sure to check my livejournal in a little bit for review responses. I'm also going to be giving out sneak peaks until chapter six is updated, so be sure to email me about those, if you want them.**

**I love you all who have stuck with this since the beginning, or the middle, or are just joining. You guys keep me writing when it's the last thing I think I want to do. And I really, really want to thank you for staying with me as long as you have, and for continuing to read, even when it seems like I'll never update again. **

**Thank you infinitely.**

**- Ers**


	5. Traffic Lights and Green Eyes

**I know, I know. I'm terrible, I suck, I update way too irregularly, you all hate me, I hate me, etc. etc. Here's the chapter.**

**Chapter Five**: Traffic Lights and Green Eyes

"I don't know what the hell happened there, Padfoot," James moaned, flopping onto his bed. "I mean, one second we're standing there hiding, and the next thing I know, she's touching my face and kissing my bloody neck! What was I supposed to do?"

Sirius stroked his chin and pretended to think for a moment. "Let's see…What would I have done in the situation? Well, I'd probably would've at least –"

He smirked. "I can't shag her in the hallway, Sirius. I'm just not into that sort of thing." James ducked, narrowly missing _Easy Spells to Fool Muggles_ when Sirius chucked it at his head.

"I wasn't going to suggest that! Although, if you wanted to, far be it from me to stop you."

He rolled his eyes, shifting over onto his stomach. "I don't think Dumbledore would really appreciate seeing two of his students – Head Boy and Girl, none the less – naked in the corridor. Although maybe I should do it, just to see Dumbledore's reaction…" James trailed off.

"What? Have sex with Lily in a corridor?"

His eyes glazed over slightly. "Yeah," he nearly sighed, his eyes wide. "That'd be nice."

Sirius raised his eyebrows, propping himself up on one hand. "Shagging Lily in the corridor would be _nice_?"

"No!" he said, jumping suddenly. "That's not what I meant!"

Sirius laughed, resting his head against the pillow. "So if you're so obviously keen on sleeping with Miss Evans, what the hell are you doing in your old dormitory, which, if I'm not mistaken, is properly devoid of said Head Girl?"

James sighed, laying down on his back and throwing an arm over his face. "I'm avoiding her."

"Might I ask why?"

"Honestly? I'm…Well, it's going to sound stupid, so don't laugh, or I'll have to find a new best mate."

Sirius grinned. "Would I ever laugh at you?"

"Course you would."

"Well, not in a situation like this."

James turned over again, burying his face into a pillow. "I'm afraid to be alone with her."

"Have you gone mad? Scared of a girl? Why, Prongs – you're practically turning into Peter!"

"I'm not afraid _of_ her; I'm afraid of being _with _her," he clarified.

His friend rolled over on his side, raising his eyebrows in speculation. "This might be hard for you to hear, I mean, I know you're a wanted wizard and all that rot, but what if she doesn't want to be with you?"

"I'm not talking about dating her, Padfoot," he sighed. "I just meant that I'm afraid to be around her. She was just so…_different_ that night, you know? I mean, Lily's not the type of girl who'd do something like that. I don't think, anyway. But…knowing that I could make her feel like that, without even trying…Merlin, I was just standing there and she…Well, it sort of makes me wonder about the kind of things I could make her do, if I tried. And that's why I'm avoiding Lily. Maybe after a while, I'll be able to look at her without wanting to just push her against a wall and see how she reacts. But I just don't trust myself right now."

Sirius whistled, pointed at James. "You, Prongs, are a much better man than I am."

"I wish I were. If I was a better man, I wouldn't be avoiding Lily at all. I'd be able to talk to her. No, I am doing this out of purely selfish reasons."

"And what might those be?"

James sighed, turning around. He stared at the ceiling in contemplative silence for a few minutes before speaking. "I need her," he whispered. "She's just so…_good_ for me. She makes me forget about _everything _when I'm with her, and she doesn't even try to. She doesn't even realize she's doing it. And I don't care how self-centered it is, I'm not ready to give that up. The way I figure, it's better to avoid her for a few days, get back to our usual routine, and just have everything fall into place again. I meant it when I said that I couldn't loose her, Padfoot. I'm just not ready for that. Besides, she'll kill me if I don't help out with the Head responsibilities."

Sirius coughed, and mumbled something under his breath sounding suspiciously like the word, "Whipped."

He grinned. "I heard that, you know."

"Heard what?" Sirius asked, raising his hands. "I didn't say anything."

"Sure you didn't."

"I didn't! I was talking about…er…the dance. Yes, that's it. I said," he paused for a second, racking his brain, "butter-dipped. Yeah. Butter-dipped."

James raised his eyebrows, wondering how Sirius would manage to get himself out of this. "Butter-dipped? Is that even a word?"

"Sure it is," he said, easily.

"Oh? And what exactly does it mean?" James asked, with a smile.

"Well, I was thinking about the food that would be at the dance…and, you know, I was hoping that it'd be butter-dipped. Dipped in butter?"

James smirked. "Dipped in butter?"

"Yes. Surely you know what it's like to have food dipped in butter. I was just hoping that the food at the dance would be…butter-dipped."

"And will your date be butter-dipped as well?" he questioned, clearly amused.

"Oh, stuff it. At least I've got a date," he said.

James snorted. "Who?"

Sirius grinned, puffing out his chest. "Aurelia Eridani."

"She's in Arithmancy with us, right? The one with the twin in Ravenclaw?"

"No, Aurelia's the one in Ravenclaw. _Iris_ is the one in our Arithmany class. Remus is going with her," Sirius said.

"Since when?"

He stood up and walked over to James' bed. "Since last Wednesday, when he asked her."

James didn't even blink when Sirius started rummaging through his night table. Instead, he laid back, closed his eyes and tucked his arms behind his head. "What are you getting?"

"Your cloak," came the reply.

James smirked. "Meeting Aurelia?"

"No."

James eyes widened. "Meeting another girl?

"No."

His smirk returned. "Meeting a guy?"

The pillow that came flying at his head gave him his answer. "No, you prat. When's the last time you had some fun? We're going out…And if you're lucky, we'll even get you a date for the dance."

"Why would I need you to find me one?"

"Well, have you found one for yourself?"

"No." James didn't need to open his eyes to see the smug grin on his friend's face.

"What about Lily? Why don't you ask her?"

He groaned, opening his eyes and rolling over on his side. "Oh, Merlin, don't start his. I don't even want a date."

"Sure you don't," Sirius said, settling down on the floor.

"I don't. I've got all this shit going on with Lily, and with Evelien getting worse…" he trailed off, forcing down the lump that always seemed to settle in his throat when he thought of his sister. "There'd just be too much on my mind. I really wouldn't be much of a date, and I don't quite fancy the idea of having a girl hate me…especially if that girl is Lily."

Sirius scratched his head, thinking. "Ophelia. Go with her."

James raised his eyebrows. "Ophelia Bailey?"

"Do we know any other Ophelias?"

"I can't go with her," James said, shaking his head. "It's been over for _ages_. We're just friends now."

He grinned, jumping up. "_Exactly._ You and Ophelia have history – almost a year's worth of it – and you _are_ good friends now, _and_ she'd completely understand if you had other things on your mind. Come on, Prongs. She was there for you the first time. What's stopping her from being there again?"

"I don't know, Padfoot," he sighed. "We haven't even really spoken since the summer. She might even already have a date."

"Well, just think about it. You wouldn't want to be the only prat at the dance without a date."

"You know," James mused, "it's too bad Lily had to go and kiss me. I wouldn't be avoiding her, and then I might've asked her to the dance. We probably would have had a good time, too. She wouldn't expect anything, and I wouldn't feel terrible for being a horrible date."

"So then don't avoid her."

He sighed again, running a hand through his hair. "I've got no other choice, Sirius. I have to. For now."

* * *

"I think James is avoiding me," I told Sophie, pulling my cloak tighter around me as we stepped out of the Entrance Hall doors and onto the grounds. The cold December air greeted me as I cautiously stepped over a mound of snow.

"Why would you think that?" she asked, tying her scarf around her neck.

I shrugged, putting my hands in my pockets to keep them warm. "Dunno. Maybe because he's barely said five words to me in the past four days, or that he practically runs from a room every time I enter it, or the fact that he hasn't been sleeping in his bed for three days."

"You check to see if he's sleeping in his room?"

"No," I said, immediately turning red. "I woke up one night and I was really restless, and I was just walking around, and I sort of...looked into his room…because his door was open. And he wasn't in there."

Sophie raised her eyebrows as we began the trek towards the carriages that would take us to Hogsmeade. "You woke up one night and went to look for James? I see…"

"See what?" I hissed. "Stop putting words into my mouth! You see nothing! There's nothing to see!"

"No, nothing to see at all. Not a thing…I'll just briefly summarize that past week for you, shall I? Let's see; how did it start? Oh yes. James being concerned – _worried_, even - about you, you walking in on James, the two of you – meaning you and James - trying to sneak into the kitchens, which we both know is _not_ something you normally do, and you almost _kissing_ James. Is there a recurring theme here? Oh yes, silly me; I must've missed it. James, James, James, James, JAMES!"

I _had_ to stop telling Sophie everything. "There is _no_ recurring theme," I sputtered. "The reason I've got so many things going on with James is the fact that I share a _dorm room_ with him!"

She coughed and I could've sworn I heard the word "denial."

"I heard that, you know," I grinned.

"Heard what?" Sophie asked, plastering a fake innocent grin on her face. "I didn't say anything."

"Course you didn't."

"Really, Lil," she started, throwing an arm across my shoulders, "I think all this planning for the dance has effected your brain. You want to turn around and go see Madame Pomfrey? I'm _sure_ she has something to cure psychotic problems."

I smirked at Sophie, "gently" shoving her arm away. "Oh? Maybe she'll have something for you, too."

She laughed and pushed me towards the nearest carriage. "Oh, she's got nothing that could help me."

"Don't I know it."

She grinned, straightening her scarf, "Of course you know things. Who do you think you learned them from?"

"So then why do you think James has been avoiding me, oh wise one, who apparently knows everything?"

"Maybe he doesn't like your choice of friends," she said, winking at me.

I laughed, knowing that with the crazy friends James had, avoiding me because of Sophie would be the last thing on his mind. No, I had a feeling he was avoiding me for more _personal_ reasons. "What if he's got a girlfriend?" I asked suddenly, bolting upright and banging my head against the carriage door.

"What are you talking about?" she asked as I rubbed my sore head. "And watch what you walk into."

I sat down, folding my legs under me. "Seriously. What if that's the reason he's avoiding me? Because he's got a girlfriend?"

"Why would he avoid you because of that?"

"Oh, think about it Sophie," I said. "Imagine you're him and you've got a girlfriend. And then there's this girl, Lily, who you've sort of lived with for nearly four months. And despite a few…mishaps on her part, you get along really, _really_ well. So one day, you decide to sneak her into the kitchens, because she hasn't eaten much the whole day and because you're such an _amazing _person, you get worried. You're on you're way there and you hear Dumbledore and McGonagall coming. You grab her and hide in this tiny spot in the wall, because you know she's _terrified_ of getting into trouble and you try to keep quiet so that doesn't happen. So what does she do? She thuds into the wall, causes Dumbledore to see you, and kisses your bloody neck!"

"Lily-"

"Oh, no. I'm not even done! And, then she makes like you two are going to KISS, not even thinking that there's something else behind your stuttering and fumbling and, at the last possible second, she blurts out something about DUMBLEDORE! Wouldn't you avoid her?!"

"LILY!"

"What?"

Sophie glared at me across the carriage. "Shut it, will you? Even if James _does_ have girlfriend - which is highly unlikely - he's not the type of person who would avoid you because of it."

"And how would _you_ know what kind of person he is?"

"You're not the only girl who talks to him, you know," she said, settling in her seat.

I raised my eyebrows. "I know I'm not. I never said I was. I think it's _great_ that James talk to you. Really. I just didn't think he did. The two of you talking is just a little…_off_, don't you think? But it's great. Really, really great."

"Don't be so defensive," Sophie said.

"I'm not being defensive."

She took off her scarf, placing it down next to her. "Right. You're just being overprotective."

The carriage lurched to a stop, and Sophie grumbled about having to put her scarf back on as I waited. "Why would I be overprotective of James?"

"Maybe you just want him all to yourself."

I scoffed, opening the carriage door. "That's ridiculous."

Sophie wrapped her cloak tighter around herself in response to the wintry chill that settled over us as we got out. "Is it?"

"Oh, Merlin. You aren't going to start this again, are you?" I groaned. "Because I know where it's headed, so I'll just stop you now. I don't like James. He's a terrific guy, and a great friend, and yes, okay, he's really…fit…And he makes me do things I never thought I would, things I know I probably shouldn't do…and he cares about me, more than I realized, and I care about him – a lot. But I don't fancy him, Sophie. He's just not for me."

"Whatever you say, Lily."

This seemed oddly familiar somehow. Why was it that I had to constantly keep convincing Sophie that I had no feelings for James? Well, I had _feelings_ for, and towards him, but they weren't as she implied. James was a good friend, a wonderful person, and a part of me was very attracted to him. But other than that…there was nothing there. "So, have you and Jacob talked about the dance?" I asked, desperate for a change of subject.

Sophie stared far ahead of her as we walked, her eyes focused on the thick blanket of snow covering the cobble stoned walkways of Hogsmeade. "Of course we did."

"And…?" I pressed.

"And nothing," she said, kicking bits off snow with her boot. "We're going together."

"That's great. Seriously. You've been dating him for how many months now? Two? That's amazing."

She snorted in a most unflattering way. "There's really nothing amazing about it, believe me."

I was confused. "What are you talking about? I thought you liked –"

"I did…At first. He was so…_perfect_, you know? He was romantic, and suave and charming. That first date was spectacular; everything a girl could hope for. The pick-up, and the date, and the goodnight kiss – all of it, was just wonderful." She sighed, sitting down on a wet, snowy bench. She didn't seem to notice. "God, Lily. It's just getting so… It's always the same thing. I don't think he even means half of what he says and does…it's almost like he just does it because he thinks he's supposed to or something. He'll do the most romantic thing, but there won't be anything behind it." She shook her head, starring up at the cloudless sky. "This just…isn't how it's supposed to be."

I didn't know what to say, mainly because I had trouble seeing what the problem was at all. Sophie was just being too hard on Jacob. Here she was, with a man who was utterly perfect, a man who most women would have killed to date just once, and she was complaining about dating him for two months.

"I think you're being a tad stupid about this," I told her, trying to keep my voice as level and un-condescending as I could.

"I'm being stupid?" she scoffed. "That's a bit rich, coming from 'Miss-I-Don't-Like-James-Potter-For-Reasons-That-The-Normal-World-Cannot-Fathom'. Don't tell me about being stupid, Lily."

I crossed my arms over my chest, staring at her, feeling more than a little insulted. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about?" she asked. "Merlin Lily. How can you be so _oblivious_? You claim you don't have _any_ romantic feelings for him, and yet you do all these things that prove otherwise – "

"What things?" I screeched, wondering if Sophie somehow found out about something I'd done without my knowledge. Which would be hard to do, because if I did something, I'd surely know it.

"Where should I begin?" she asked, her voice slightly louder. "You snuck off to the kitchens with him – "

"I was hungry! And we already talked about that."

She rolled her eyes. "You saved the sugar quill he gave you almost FOUR MONTHS ago."

I felt my cheeks heat up, and hoped that if Sophie noticed she'd think it was just from the cold. "I did not."

"Yes, you did," she countered.

"Oh? And how would you know?"

She smiled, raising her eyebrow. "Well, for one, your face is about the same color as your hair right now, and I know it's not from the cold. For another…I was in the room when you put it in your drawer."

"Well, that doesn't mean anything," I said quickly. "I just thought it was nice of him to do that. I saved it…so I could be reminded of how _nice_ he is."

"Because he's not normally nice to you?"

"No," I said even quicker. "James is great." And he was. James was a great _friend._ That was all there was to it, and I couldn't understand why Sophie didn't see it. "I just…wanted to save it, that's all. So, that one doesn't count either."

She looked at me for a long time, without saying anything. "You got nothing else, then?" I asked.

Sophie shook her head. "No, Lily, that's not all."

"Well?" I said becoming, impatient. "What is it?"

She sighed, looking at her feet. "You kept something from me…for James."

"What are you talking about?"

Sophie sighed again and looked up at me. "You didn't tell me about Evelien."

I sank down onto the bench, next to her, ignoring how cold and wet it was. I too, took a few minutes before answering, staring ahead of me but not really seeing anything, and holding my hands in my lap. "Soph…"

"No," she said, shaking her head as she turned to face me, "forget it. I shouldn't have said anything. I mean…God, the girl's got cancer, and I _know_ it's not something you go around telling people…" she trailed off, staring at the ground again. "I just…We're friends. Best friends. This is the sort of thing that you talk about, you know? But, forget it," she mumbled again. "It's stupid; I shouldn't have said anything."

I was whispering when I answered her. "It's not stupid. I…I'm sorry. I didn't think that…" I kicked my foot back and forth, unsure of what to say. "I just…I don't know. I figured that if James and his friends were the only ones who knew about…Evelien, then there was a reason for it, and that I shouldn't tell anyone."

"I know that," she told me, nodding. "And I get that, really, I do. It's just…I'm not "anyone" Lily. I'm your _best friend._"

"Soph-"

"No, I know," she said, a bit quietly. "The only reason I'm making a big deal out of it is because…Well, had this been anyone else you would have told me. You've told me everything before. I understand that this is a huge issue, and it's not just idle gossip. But you would have told me…if it wasn't James' secret."

I shook my head. "I wouldn't have," I said, just as quietly. "Not with something this serious. I wouldn't have told you no matter who it was."

"Yes, you would have, Lily. You can't tell me that if…_Jacob_ told you his sister had cancer, you wouldn't tell me."

I started to say, "I wouldn't have…" but I couldn't finish the sentence. I knew my face was turning redder every second I didn't answer her. I knew she noticed it too. She didn't even need to hear my answer anymore, but I attempted to give her one anyway. "I…I don't know," I finally managed.

"I do." Her eyes were as soft as her voice was when she looked at me.

"What does that have to do with any of this, anyway?" I asked, even though a very large part of me knew.

Sophie smiled, bringing a comforting hand to my shoulder. "Everything, Lily. It has everything to do with this."

I shook my head again, feeling a comforting sort of chill from the snowflakes that fell onto my hand. "Sophie…I promise you, he's just a friend. A very good friend. I'm not going to say I don't care about him. And I'm not going to say he doesn't care about me. But...that's all there is to it. Two friends who care about each other. You just…you don't know me and James. You don't know how we are."

"So how are you?"

I started to say something, but again, I found myself stopping. How was I supposed to tell her the way things were between James and me? How could I begin to spell out our relationship? All she wanted to know was how we were. She wanted me to tell her. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't tell her, because something had hit me. It was scary, this sudden realization. This sudden epiphany that I, myself, did not know how we were.

"You can't explain it, can you?"

"No," I said, shaking my head, "I can't."

She was silent for a moment. "That's good, you know. It probably scares you, not being able to explain something, but it's good."

"How's that?" I speculated, staring at my hands.

"It just is," she shrugged.

"Can you explain how it is between you and Jacob?" I asked, hoping to take the spotlight of myself.

"Are you saying that you and James are like me and Jacob?" No such luck.

"No. Just answer the question."

Sophie shrugged, playing with the ends of her scarf. "No, I can't explain it. But it's different. Jacob and me…God. I think it's just Jacob, actually." She laughed, looking up at the sky. "Look, you know how you said that I didn't understand you and James? Well, you don't know me and Jacob. Or just Jacob. Or whatever." She laughed again, rising from the bench. "Didn't we come here to get stuff for the dance?"

I laughed as well, following her when she began to walk. "Yeah, the dance I still don't have a date for."

She linked her arm with mine as while we walked though Hogsmeade, pausing to say hello to random students who'd managed to get here as well. "You could just ask someone, you know."

"That's not the point, Soph. If I really wanted to, I could get a date. Or, at least, I think I could."

"Then what is the point?" she questioned, pausing to take off her scarf when we reached the door to _Missy's HonkyTonk Flowers._

I shrugged, opening the door. "I don't know…The point is that I want to go with someone who I like. Someone I can have fun with. It can't be just anyone. I really want it to be important."

She nodded, looking around the shop. "If I offer a suggestion, you have to promise to hear me out before you say anything."

"Maybe," I offered slowly, suspicion lining my voice.

She gently touched a nearby rose, seemingly focused on the flower. "What if you ask James?"

"Sophie –"

"Just listen to me. You two are friends – just friends. I know that, I understand that. But you don't want to go the dance with "just anyone" and you also want to have fun. James isn't "just anyone" and you will have fun with him…"

"No, I won't!" I exclaimed, turning her around to face me. She gave me an incredulous look and I shrugged. "Okay, maybe I will, but that doesn't mean I should go with him."

"Why not?" she asked.

I shrugged again. "Because. James and I aren't the type of friends who go to dances together."

"Why not?" she repeated.

"Because!"

"So, then why don't you become the type of friends who do? Lily, you want to have a good time at the dance with someone…special. Why not James?"

Sophie looked at me, waiting for my response. If I thought about, _really_ thought about, I could see that she had a point. I wanted to have a good time at the dance with someone I cared about. Someone who cared about me. Maybe we didn't care about each other in the way that I envisioned, but it was still…something.

"You're right," I said, finally. I examined the bouquet nearest me, wondering how it would look as a center piece. "Why not James?"

* * *

"We will be starting a new topic today, class, so please settle down."

James turned his head to see Sirius lean back in his chair, and stifled a yawn as their Muggle Studies class hurried to take their seats. He put his head down on the nearest book, closed his eyes, and dimly wondered if Professor Darvick would notice if took a short nap.

"Traffic lights," the professor continued, addressing the class, "are very fascinating objects. Now, can anyone here tell me what a traffic light is?"

James tuned out and briefly allowed his mind to toy with the idea of asking Professor Darvick to keep it down so he could sleep. He needed some bloody rest after three nights without it. Sleeping in the boy's dorm seemed to be harder than he thought. The first night he blamed it on Peter's snoring until Sirius woke up and set a Silencing Charm around his bed. The second night he blamed it on the cramped, lumpy mattress, as the one in his private room was much bigger and much more comfortable, until he realized that he was a wizard, and could just transfigure the damn thing. The third night, he blamed it on the memories of Evey, which were all over the room (Sirius tended to save the letters she sent him, though not in a particularly orderly manner) until he just set a locking charm on the curtains over his bed so he wouldn't see them. Last night though, he had to admit the truth to himself.

He was loosing sleep because of Lily.

It was laughable, and James knew it. _He_ was the one avoiding her, _he_ was the one who could barely look at her, _he _was the one who hadn't talked to her in nearly four days, and yet he was the one who was suffering. Suffering from self inflicted pain. As far as pain went, it was the worst kind.

James sighed, and attempted to keep his eyes open. As ridiculous as he thought the class was, he didn't fancy getting a detention for falling asleep during it. He had other things to take care of.

"The purpose of a traffic light is to…"

He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and instead let them wander to the girl sitting two rows down. James stared at her back for a few moments and re-familiarized himself with her features, the ones he hadn't seen up close for some time – the long hair that was plaited neatly down her back, her easy posture as she sat in her chair, the arm that was attached to the hand that he knew was scribbling furiously against the parchment even though she already knew the material. She looked up after a while, her green eyes bright as she turned her head around the way most people do when they feel like they're being watched. James put his head on the book again, and closed his eyes, not wanting her to see him. He wasn't ready for that yet.

Closing his eyes proved not to be the smartest decision, five minutes later when he awoke (without any memory of falling asleep). Wearily, he glanced at Sirius, whose quill was currently poking him hard in the ribs, and glared to the best of his ability.

"Darvick's looking this way, you prat," Sirius hissed. "Wake up."

He straitened immediately, quickly grabbing a clean piece of parchment, just in time to hear the professor's booming voice call out, "Mr. Potter."

The class looked toward James immediately, some snickering, some smiling, but most looking expectant. All but one. He didn't want to, but his eyes trailed to hers anyway. She looked back at him, that green eyed gaze of hers intense.

"Tell me, James, have you been listening to anything I've just said?" James quickly turned to his teacher, who was standing by the side of his desk. _When the hell,_ he thought, _did Darvick have a chance to get there?_

"Uh…yeah," he said, his voice still as gruff as it was that morning when he first woke up. "You were talking about…" he trailed off, moving his eyes to the left, to look at Remus's paper. _Traffic Lights_, it said at the top. "You were discussing traffic lights."

The professor looked surprised, and a little amused. "Can you tell me what color I just said the light must be in order for the cars to resume driving?"

_What the hell is he talking about? What do colors have to do with anything?_

"Well?" he asked again, when James didn't answer. "I thought you said you were listening."

"I was," he said quickly, his eyes moving two rows down again. She was still looking at him, biting her lip in the corner in that way of hers that used to drive him insane.

"Then answer the question. What color must the light be in order for the cars to resume driving?"

James looked to her again; her eyes wide and probing as she stared back at him. "Green," he said, without thinking.

Proffesor Darvick seemed taken aback. "Correct. Five points to Gryffindor. However, Mr. Potter, next time, I'd appreciate it if you kept your eyes open and your head off the desk when in my class."

Sirius sniggered when the teacher moved on, and nudged him with his shoulder. "Green, eh? Wonder what you were thinking about? But it's good to know you took my advice."

"Shut it," James warned, yawning again, keeping his eyes focused on the parchment in front of him. He had no idea if she was still looking at him, and he preferred not to find out. He didn't know if he'd like the outcome.

30 minutes later, his eyes were drifting shut of their own accord, and he received another sharp jab on his side, this time from Remus. He looked at his friend, his eyebrows raised in a silent question. Remus motioned to the folded piece of parchment at his side.

James opened it, keeping an eye on Darvick, who was still at the front of the room.

_Prongs –  
__You almost look the way I do after the you-know-what. What's the matter?  
__- Moony_

James smiled, grabbed his quill, and wrote a quick response.

_Moony –  
__I'd never look that terrible. I just didn't get enough sleep. Tired, is all.  
__- Prongs_

_Prongs –  
__I wouldn't be too sure about that. You've never seen yourself in the morning. What's making it hard for you to sleep?  
__- Moony_

_Moony –  
__Why are you passing notes, anyway? Shouldn't you be paying attention? I'd say that you and Padfoot have switched places, if I didn't know any better.  
__- Prongs_

_Prongs –  
__Oh, please. Look at him. He's not paying attention; he's staring off into space. He's had trouble sleeping too.  
__- Moony_

James glanced at his friend, suddenly feeling guilty.

_Moony –  
__Any idea why?  
__- Prongs _

_P. –  
__Evelien_ _owled him yesterday.  
__- M._

_M –  
__Oh bugger.. He didn't tell me.  
__- P_

_P. –  
__He didn't tell me either. I saw her owl just before it flew away.  
__- M._

_M –  
__You'd think he'd just ask her not to write, if it's doing this to him.  
__- P_

_P -  
__But he wouldn't be able to take it, not hearing from her. She's like a sister to him; he's just scared.  
__-M_

_M –  
__What, you don't think _I _am? She really _is _my sister. This scares me too. How could it not?  
__- P_

_P –  
__It's different for him. He's never had what you had. He doesn't have good parents, or a loving sibling. He's got…Regulus. But, Evelien…She looks up to him. She treats him like she treats you and he –_

"Mr. Potter, what is so interesting on that piece of parchment that you haven't looked up from it in almost a half hour?"

James sat up so suddenly in his seat that he almost fell out, the note practically jumping out of his hands before it landed on the table, the unused side facing up. He looked up to see Professor Darvick standing a few feet in front of him, his arms crossed.

"I- uh…it's nothing, sir." God, today was not a good day to get a detention. He looked at Professor Darvick, forcing himself not to let his eyes wander. Especially not two rows down. He knew she'd be looking at him, just like the rest of the class was. He couldn't take that just yet.

"Really? You won't mind if I see it then?" He had walked the necessary feet to stand in front of James and looked at the boy with slight amusement in his eyes.

James shrugged, his fingers quickly grabbing the clean parchment next to the note. "Sure."

He gave it to his teacher, heart pounding wildly against his chest. "Mr. Potter, I clearly saw you writing on the – "

But then the bell rang, and whatever it was that Professor Darvick was going to say was swallowed by the sound of students gathering their books and leaving.

"Class dismissed," he said, though there was no point.

James sat in his seat while the class moved around him, and told his friends that he'd meet them in the Great Hall for lunch in a few minutes. He didn't much feel like moving at the moment. Only when he thought the classroom was clear of everyone, including the professor, did he even move to gather his things. He moved slowly towards the door, running a hand over his tired face, and almost dropped his books when a soft hand grabbed at his arm.

He turned around suddenly, his mouth going dry. He wasn't ready to talk to her. Not yet. But, God, those eyes. Those green, green eyes that were looking at him the same way they used to. Her voice was the same, too: a hint of amusement mixed with a dash of concern.

"Were you planning on doing more than stare at me, James?"

* * *

**Yay** **for cliffhangers.** **Or not. I love the two people that still read this, and I promise that I am really going to try so much harder to get the next chapter out sooner. **

**You are all amazing.**

**-Ers**

**PS – Review responses WILL be up shortly. **


	6. Mr Impulsive and Fierce Disappointments

_"People may think you can turn creativity on and off but it's not like that. It just kinda comes out, a mash up of all those things going on in your mind. You don't know when it's gonna happen. But when it does, it's like magic. It's just that simple. And it's just that hard." – Gwen Stefani_

_Using that quote is just a fancy way of saying that every now and then the mood strikes you to go back to something you started writing when you were 13 years old and see if you still feel anything for it. Turns out I do._

_

* * *

  
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**Chapter Six**: Mister Impulsive and Fierce Disappointments

It wasn't until I noticed that James wasn't at lunch one day that I truly began to think something was wrong. It was more than obvious that James was avoiding me and at first, I understood that. I'd practically mauled his neck in the corridor only a few nights before. Things were bound to be awkward. But if there was one thing I knew about James, it was that he loved his food. Missing lunch just to continue avoiding me (especially since he came to lunch yesterday and the day before that) really didn't make much sense. The problem was that I had no idea where he could be, as his Muggle Studies class had already let out. I had to admit, I was worried.

So it was this worry, and this worry alone, that led me to follow Sirius Black on his way out of the Great Hall. After all, if anyone knew what was going on with James, it would be his best friend.

_Lily Evans, you are such a stalker_, I thought as I crept down the hallways after him, always making sure there were a few people between us. I could have announced my presence, sure, but there was always someone nearby and this was not a conversation I wanted overheard in any way. After climbing quite a few flights of stairs, he went into the owlery. I thought this would be my chance, but several first years were in there as well. I waited until Sirius attached the letter to his owl and walked off.

And then finally, mercifully, the hall was empty. "Psst! Sirius!" I called from around the corner.

He didn't turn around but stopped walking. "I was wondering when you'd stop following me."

I had to laugh. I must have been crazy to think that I could ever get one over the Marauders. I came out of my corner and found him grinning at me.

"It isn't that I'm not flattered, Lily, but I never pegged you as the stalking type."

"Very funny," I told him. "I wanted to talk to you. Alone."

"Well all you had to do was ask. What about?"

I lowered my voice even though there wasn't anyone in the hallway and leaned in closer. "James."

Sirius instantly straightened up. "Is he okay?"

"Er, well, I don't know." He looked at me blankly, clearly expecting an explanation. "Okay, well, I'm assuming he told you about . . . what happened a few nights ago? In the corridor?"

He seemed to visibly relax. "You shouldn't assume such things."

I blinked in surprise. "He didn't tell you?"

"Are you mad? Of course he told me."

"But you just said that – "

Sirius grinned. "I said that you shouldn't assume he told me."

"But he did tell you."

"So?"

I was becoming very confused and slightly annoyed. "So my assumption was correct."

"So?"

"So . . ." Then I realized what he was doing. "Are you trying to change the subject?"

"Yes, yes, I am."

"Why?"

"Because, no offense or anything, but I don't really feel right discussing _that_ with you."

I knew I was blushing but proceeded with the intent to sound as level headed as possible. "I'm not trying to discuss that. I just know he probably feels weird about what happened, but he hasn't been sleeping in the head room and he wasn't at lunch…and now I'm getting worried about him."

"Aw, are you worried about Jamie boy? Don't be. He's been sleeping in the dormitory with us and he probably just skipped lunch to go send an owl or something."

This should have made me feel better but it only made me feel worse. Even though James was okay it was now painfully obvious that he was going to great lengths to get away from me. Only, something didn't add up. "Sirius, we were just in the owlery. James wasn't in there."

"He's probably just talking to…" his eyes widened the tiniest bit, "to someone. Or maybe he's taking a nap. Now that I think of it, he was a little tired today. But he's fine."

So he wasn't going to tell me. That was fine. I'd find James myself. "Okay, well, if you see James, could you tell him I'm looking for him?"

"Sure thing. And lighten up, hey? He's a big boy."

"Thanks, I'll see you around." I waved a bit and started to walk off.

"Wait, Lily, where are you going?"

I checked my watch. "Well, I still need to talk to Professor McGonagall before tonight's prefect meeting, and I have a free period now, so down to the first floor, I guess..."

Sirius looked alarmed. "But that's where…the busiest hallway is. It's really crowded now that lunch is over, could take forever to walk through."

I had a sneaking suspicion that wasn't what he wanted to say. "I've got time."

"Why don't I walk with you?" He took my arm and pulled me to the right.

"In the opposite direction of where I need to go?"

"Maybe I want to spend more time with you." He smiled at me. "You have such pretty eyes, Lily."

I burst out laughing. "Sirius, you do know that flirting as a distraction only works when the girl is attracted to you, don't you?"

"Are you saying you're not attracted to me?"

"Not in the least. Sorry." I began walking to the staircase and was surprised when he followed.

"Right. You're more attracted to messy haired blokes who answer to the name of James."

We were weaving through the staircase now, attempting to avoid the crowd coming back from lunch. "Oh stop it." I called out over the heads of several students as he was shuffled a few paces behind. "People can be friends without being attracted to each other, you know."

"Only in theory."

"So you're saying that you're attracted to all your friends? Remus and Peter as well?"

He caught up me at the bottom of the staircase and grinned. "You evil witch. I'm not saying that all friends are attracted to each other. I'm saying that you and James are."

I blinked and spoke far too quickly for my liking. "Why would you think that? Did he say something?"

His grin widened. "Why does it matter? You're not attracted to him." Blast. Sirius blinked, obviously just noticing his surroundings for the first time. "Lily?"

"Hmm?" I asked as I walked down the hall.

"When did we get to this floor?"

"A minute ago."

"And why are we here?"

"Because there's a reason you don't want me here and I want to know what that reason is."

"Lily, honestly."

Then all of a sudden it came to me and I couldn't believe I didn't realize it sooner. "Muggle Studies! The Muggle Studies room is on the same floor as McGonagall's office. And James…is probably still in there! Sirius, you prat, you knew where he was all along." I eyed him suspiciously. "Why didn't you tell me?"

I was beginning to feel that uncomfortable sensation that came from being lied to; the one where you know things are being kept from you but you don't know what or why. I started walking down the hall again, Sirius hot on my heels.

"He's probably just talking to someone-"

"Only Professor Darvick would be there now. Why would you care if I saw that?"

"Because I don't think he's talking to the-"

I stopped dead in my tracks only a few feet away from the door.

"…teacher," Sirius finished meekly.

I felt many different levels of embarrassment. Because Sirius was right on all three counts. James _was_ in the room, he _was_ talking to someone, and the person sitting next to him was clearly _not_ Professor Darvick.

* * *

_James sat in his seat while the class moved around him, and told his friends that he'd meet them in the Great Hall for lunch in a few minutes. He didn't much feel like moving at the moment. Only when he thought the class room was clear of everyone, including the professor, did he even move to gather his things. He moved slowly towards the door, running a hand over his tired face, and almost dropped his books when a soft hand grabbed at his arm._

_He turned around suddenly, his mouth going dry. He wasn't ready to talk to her. Not yet. But, God, those eyes. Those green, green eyes that were looking at him the same way they used to. Her voice was the same, too: a hint of amusement mixed with a dash of concern._

"_Were you planning on doing more than stare at me, James?"_

He looked at her for a long time before a laugh bubbled to the surface. Merlin, it felt good to laugh. "I don't know. Would you want me to?"

She grinned and jumped onto the nearest table. "Depends on what you'd want to do instead of staring."

James considered joining her on the table, but thought better of it, and settled for standing in front of her instead. "You just never change do you, Miss Bailey?"

"You know you'd hate it if I did," teased Ophelia.

He looked at her, entranced with the few golden strands of hair that fell out of her braid. He lifted his hand and brushed them out of her face, the motion reminding him of many a time last year. "I would," he said quietly.

"It's been a while," she told him. "I miss talking to you."

He brought his arms around her with a sigh. "I know. I miss talking to you, too."

Ophelia returned the hug and looked at him for a long time when she pulled away. "You look like shit, Jamie," she said with a slight frown.

He laughed lightly. "You always had such a way with words."

Ophelia rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean." She brushed some of his hair away from his forehead, her fingers lingering there for a moment. "You haven't been sleeping well, have you?"

James smiled, comforted at the thought of Ophelia still being able to read him so well even after months apart. Some things never changed, and he was glad for it. It was one of the traits that attracted him to her in the beginning; how well she could tell what was going on with him, or what was on his mind. It was both a blessing and a curse once they were together.

"No, I haven't. How can you tell?" He wasn't expecting an answer really. One of the best things about her was that she could just tell sometimes, without a reason.

Her smile was a sad one, he noticed. "You look the same way you did last year when things got bad with Evelien."

"Merlin, I'm a right prat, aren't I?"

She looked confused and more than a little worried. "What are you talking about?"

James laughed bitterly, running a hand through his perpetually messy hair. "My sister is sick and I'm losing sleep over a girl. What a tosser I've become."

Ophelia nodded, falling silent. She stared at a spot just over his head, waiting for James to continue. James grinned inwardly, amazed that after all this time, she still knew when to offer advice, and when to just sit there and wait for him to vent.

"She lets me forget about everything, Lia," he said quietly, after minutes of silence. "I always feel so young and innocent around her."

"You are young and innocent. Well, maybe more young than innocent," she said with a pretty smile.

James paused again, sitting next to her on the table with a groan. "You know what I mean." It was hard to explain the situation, but he knew that if anyone would understand, it was Ophelia.

Ophelia turned to face him and grinned. "I'd probably know you mean a lot more if you told me who it was we're talking about."

James laughed, turning his head to face her as well. "Lily Evans."

She raised her eyebrows, clearly surprised. "Really?"

"Yes. You'd really get along well with her. She's…well, she's pretty incredible, actually."

Her eyebrows had practically disappeared into her hairline by this point. "Well you certainly moved fast, didn't you?"

He looked at her sharply, only just realizing that he was giving off the wrong impression. "No, it's not like that."

She gazed at him, searching his face for something. "Yes it is."

James was about to tell her that she was wrong, but settled down closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder, and spoke before he had the chance. "Jamie, just…don't let it cloud your judgment. Don't take it for more than what it is." Ophelia sighed, wondering how to phrase her next sentence. She distracted herself by tracing light patterns on his shoulder, oddly fascinated by the way the sleeves of his white shirt bunched under her wandering fingers. "People get hurt that way."

James circled his arm around her, bringing her closer to him. It was amazing how her touch still calmed him, even after all this time. "I hate that."

"Hate what?" she whispered, her fingers moving of their own accord.

He brought her fingers up to his lips, the gesture reminiscent of earlier times. It was an incredible thing; how the same movement could be so drastically different during two points in time. "I hate that people get hurt."

He hated that he was usually the reason for it.

* * *

"Lily," Sirius said awkwardly. He looked uncomfortable, as if he would have rather been standing anywhere else. I couldn't say I blamed him. I didn't very much want to be there either. "It's not what-"

"So I was right," I interrupted, staring at the view before me. I could not think of a single subject matter so engrossing that two people wouldn't even realize they were being watched. "James has a girlfriend. That's why he's avoiding me."

"What? No, Ophelia's not his girlfriend."

"Wait. Ophelia? Ophelia Bailey?" I looked at the girl closely, wondering why I didn't recognize her right away. "Didn't James date her last year?"

"Yeah, he did. They're still really good friends but that's it." It sounded an awful lot like what I had been telling Sophie for weeks.

"Well they certainly look…cozy," I said lamely, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I didn't want James to look cozy with anyone. I wanted him to look stiff and uncomfortable and like he couldn't wait to leave. It stupid and unreasonable, but I didn't care.

"Honest, Lily. They're just friends."

If a completely unbiased and rational person was judging they could say that there was absolutely nothing about the situation that made it seem as if Ophelia and James were anything more. Unfortunately, at the moment, I was neither unbiased nor rational. Even though their current gestures and postures were completely platonic there was still a problem.

And the problem was simply this: even upon seeing this entirely friendly scene, I was having completely unfriendly thoughts. Thoughts of strangling Ophelia with her stupid shiny hair while screaming, "Don't you dare touch him you evil cow!" It was mad and I knew it but I couldn't help to feel almost betrayed. Apparently James thought it was okay to sit with an absurdly pretty girl he had broken up with months ago, while he ignoring and avoiding a girl he actually _lives_ with – a girl who was stupid enough to be worried about him even though he was clearly more than fine.

I shrugged. "Doesn't matter either way." I only hoped that Sirius didn't know me well enough to know I was lying.

"Bollocks."

"Sirius, it doesn't matter. I mean it."

"Yeah? So you don't want to know what he's doing in there with her?"

"No." I looked inside the room again. She was touching his shoulder now. "Maybe. How do _you_ know what he's doing in there?"

"You underestimate me, Evans. I know everything there is to know about James. And if you promise to hear me out completely, then I'll share some of my wisdom with you."

I looked at him. I looked back into the room. James was playing with her fingers. So he had time to touch her hands but not sleep in his own room or even talk to me? I resisted the urge to run in there and throttle them both and turned back to Sirius once more.

"You have ten minutes."

* * *

Neither of them said anything for a few long moments as they sat on the desk in silence, both half way content with just being there, each lost in their own thoughts: James trying to find a way to make things right with Lily, to be able to look at her without feeling so damn _affected_, while Ophelia thought about him. James was so…flawed, so damaged, so rough around the edges. Most people didn't know; they didn't see it. They couldn't. He liked it better that way, she knew. But it was clearer than anything to her, for she could see it. She always could.

From the very beginning, Ophelia knew there was more to James Potter than met the eye. There was just something in his eyes, something profound, more intense, more wrenching, that was immersed just beneath his surface. It pressed at the very depths of his existence, begging to be hidden below. But it couldn't hide, he couldn't hide. Not from her. Ophelia was too drawn to it, distressed with the need to seek out whatever it was, and make it better. It was what brought them together. It was also what brought them apart.

They were much too alike in that sense. They were both acutely aware of each other's pain, and both felt the insatiable need to make things better, to get rid of the hurt. They didn't realize how much more it could hurt them in the end.

They easily mistook the comfort and attraction the other offered for something more, something deeper. They held on to that, clinging, desperate to ease each other's anguish, and their own. They took it too far, ignoring the pangs of guilt and denial they felt when they were together. There were so many sensations, so many feelings, and usually so much passion – sodding hormones. It was only too simple to ignore petty trivialities like reason and sense. Inevitably, the time came when they couldn't ignore them anymore, leaving behind a tangled mess of emotions in their wake.

Ophelia relaxed against him, smiling when his fingers ran up and down her arm, mirroring her earlier actions. "Be careful," she told him. "Don't let it get out of hand. Don't put yourself through that again. And don't do it to Lily either. Neither of you deserve it."

He closed his eyes, feeling the familiar waves of guilt wash over him whenever he thought about what had transpired between him and Ophelia. "It kills me that I'm the reason you know all this first hand. I'm so sorry."

She sighed, wondering how many times now he had said those exact words; how many times she had said them back. "Don't be. It was both our faults. I'm just as much to blame as you are."

"Yeah, but I was the one who needed it. Needed the comfort and took it too far. I won't let you blame yourself for it."

"I don't blame myself for it. I don't blame you either. God, James. Stop trying to be everyone's savior. I was there, too. I messed up, too. Everything you did, I did too. We can't go back and stop ourselves, and to be honest I don't think I would even if it was possible. Would you?"

He was surprised that he didn't have to think about it. "No. I wouldn't go back and stop things. I mean…it wasn't all bad, was it?"

"No," she said. "It was great. I really did care about you. I still do."

"Of course you know I care about you, too."

"So there's no sense in feeling guilty and pitiful. It's not your most becoming quality, you know."

James laughed. At least he knew that no matter what, he could count on Ophelia for being brutally honest.

* * *

Ten minutes later, I found myself sitting on the floor of the Gryffindor common room with Sirius Black as the oh-so-intriguing relationship of James Potter and Ophelia Bailey began to unfold.

"I really don't think James would appreciate me telling you everything, so I won't, but I do think you should know some things before you rush to the wrong conclusions. James has no feelings for her and she has none for him. Do you understand that?"

I stretched my legs out in front of me, crossing them at the ankles. "Sure."

"I really hope you mean that, Lily, because there's a lot more to this than you know." He looked at me very seriously. "There's a lot you need to understand."

"Okay. Start talking."

"Patience, Evans, patience. Did James tell you about his…family?" He was speaking very carefully so as not to give anything away.

I tried not to huff in annoyance. "If you mean about Evelien, then yes. He told me."

"Good. How much do you know about wizard cancer?"

"Not much."

He sighed. "Well then a lesson is in order."

"What does this have to do with James and Ophelia?"

"All will be revealed. Now shut up and listen to me. Muggle cancer is always different, right? It can attack your blood, your brain, your liver, whatever, right?"

"Well, yes-"

"What Evey has…it's not like that. It doesn't attack just your body. It attacks you, your magic, everything that's keeping you together. Very few wizards can throw it off for long and even the ones that could were very advanced and had loads of training. Yet even then," he paused for a minute and I realized how hard this must have been for him as well. "Even then, no one's lived through it. Not one single person has managed to live more than a few years after being diagnosed."

"But a cure or a spell…surely there must be something-"

"Lily, there's nothing."

"Well then perhaps something needs to be made!"

He chuckled softly. "I completely agree, sweetheart, but life's taught me that things don't work out that way. Some things can never be cured."

"But this…this isn't fair! Muggle treatments-"

"Muggle treatments?" he laughed almost harshly. "Are you mad? This isn't a Muggle disease. Nothing can help."

"Then how has she made it this far?"

Sirius shrugged. "I won't pretend to be a healer. I don't know. The only thing she can do is fight it off herself, and that…Well, it takes a lot of strength and determination. It leaves her so drained sometimes…" he trailed off for a minute and then continued, leaning back against the couch.

"Last year it got really bad. It was horrible, actually. She was in so much pain and she was always so tired. She just slept for two weeks straight sometimes and we all felt so useless, just standing around not being able to do anything, but James especially. It was a very rough year for him, and I need you to keep that in mind, okay?"

I sensed that this was the part of the story where Ophelia came in.

"Ophelia's family is very good friends with the Potters, and we'd all known each other since training brooms. I don't think any of use _really_ knew her until the Potter's Christmas party last year. She and James really got to know each other. Err, I mean," he coughed, shooting me an apologetic grin. "I mean, they really connected on a deep level."

"Sirius, I'm not that naïve. You don't have to sugarcoat it."

"Oh, no. They didn't shag or anything, not at the party. James can be a prat but he's no fool. Look," he glanced around the common room furtively; making sure it really was as empty as it looked. "What I am going to tell you is said in complete confidence. The only reason I will tell you at all is because otherwise you will jump to all kinds of wild conclusions and will think that James had all these torrid sexual escapades or something, and that couldn't be farther from the truth. But if you breathe a word of it, remember, I am a Marauder and will not hesitate to turn your hair permanently green, or to create a startling wind in the Great Hall –"

"What's so bad about wind?"

Sirius gave me an exasperated look. "Lily, think about it. Do skirts and wind mix?"

"Oh. Oh! You wouldn't!"

He winked. "Better wear your good knickers. I prefer red myself. Or you could not wear knickers at all. That's fine too. Ow! What'd you hit me for? I was only joking."

"Can you just get back to the point?"

"Fine, fine," he mumbled, rubbing his head. "Don't know how James lives with you…Right, so anyway. The thing you need to know about Ophelia is that…" his voice dropped down to an almost comical whisper. "She's an empath."

I gasped. "A true one? But that's so _rare_."

"I know. That's why she was so drawn to James at that party. Anyone could see that he was miserable, but she could feel it, almost as if his pain was hers. I always felt a bit sorry for her for that. A person could go crazy from feeling so much."

"But can't they block out emotions?"

"If they want to, yes, and she normally does. But I guess what James was feeling was so strong…My personal theory is that she chose not to block him out. But she really helped him…a lot. I don't know what he would have done without her last year."

I shoved down all my bitter thoughts. Or attempted to, at any rate. "If she was so amazing, why did they break up?"

"That…I can't _really_ tell you."

"Oh come on! I've already sworn not to tell."

"No, really, Lily. A lot happened with them. It was messy. There were a million reasons and eventually they both realized it just wasn't right. They broke up over the summer."

I was struggling to retain all this information at once. "Did he…did he love her?"

Sirius looked away. "You're going to have to ask him."

"Is that code for 'yes he was but I don't want to tell you'?"

"No, it's code for 'if you want to know James felt, you should ask him.' But just between you and me…I don't think he did, not really. They truly are much better as friends and that, Lily, is what I want you to remember. Because they will always be friends. They will always have a past. But that's all. Okay?"

I nodded. "Okay. Err, Sirius? I know you're going to tell him about this, but can you not tell him I was so…curious?"

He laughed. "I'll take it to the grave, sweetheart."

"They've been there for a while," I said, looking at my watch. "What do you think they're talking about?"

Sirius looked thoughtful for a minute. "If I know my best friend, and I do, then there's only one thing on James' mind right now."

"What's that?"

"You, my dear. You."

* * *

"Do me a favor, would you, love?" James asked, wisely changing the subject. "Put your hair down?"

She grinned. "And what makes you think you have that luxury anymore?"

He looked at her and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Just do it, Lia? Please?"

Ophelia began to unbraid her hair, shaking it out when she was finished, and placed her head on his shoulder. "Happy?"

"Mhmm," he murmured, running a hand through the strands, "very."

"So Jamie, I think I should be insulted."

"You probably should. What about?"

"Well we've been here for a while and you haven't asked me yet if I wanted to see your new Head pad. Normally, you'd be dying to show it off. What gives?"

He shrugged. "I've been avoiding it."

"Are you going to tell me why?"

"Lily."

"Ah, I should have known. You _are_ going to have to talk to her eventually. You _do_ know that, right?"

"I know."

"Besides, Mr. Head Boy, you are skirting your responsibilities for the uh, school dance." Ophelia was smirking, obviously amused at the idea of James organizing a dance.

James groaned. "Oh, I completely forgot about the stupid thing. Lily is going to kill me."

"Tsk tsk, Jamie. Can't you do anything right?" she said, pouting at him.

"Some things. You would know about most of them," he said with a wink. "So Lia, are you going to come to this blasted dance with me or not?"

"Are you serious? A school function? You must be joking."

"Of course I'm serious. I have to go, don't I? You're the only one I can go with that might make the evening bearable."

She considered it for some time before smiling. "Fine, I'll come with you. But only because it'll give me the opportunity to buy a new dress."

* * *

"Now that we're all caught up to date, are there are any questions?" I asked the group of students later that day as the Prefects meeting came to a close. I was met with a set of bored looking faces and more than a few yawns.

"I have a question," a drawling voice called out. I looked over to Beatrice Wilkins, a sixth year Slytherin, with her hand in the air. I groaned to myself. Beatrice rarely had a nice thing to say. She spent most of the Prefect meetings rolling her eyes and making faces at me. Clearly, she was not my biggest fan. "Why is it that this meeting was postponed for three hours? It's nearly eleven o'clock. Some of us had places to be." The snobbery in her tone was obvious and I would have loved to put her in her place had I not been so exhausted.

"Come off it, Wilkins. You can just snog Thompson in the broom cupboard later," a voice interrupted before I had the chance to say anything. I glanced gratefully at Charles Knight, a fellow seventh year from Ravenclaw.

"Thank you, Charles. Now if anyone has a useful question…" I trailed off but no one spoke up. Beatrice glared from her seat but surprisingly said nothing. "Well then, this meeting is officially over. Great job everyone; I'll see you in a few days."

The students shuffled off, eager to leave, but Beatrice made a bee line straight for me, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she went. "So Evans," she sneered. "Why are you covering for Potter?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well he's missed the entire meeting. A meeting that you started three hours late, no doubt hoping he would show."

"Not that it's any of your business," I replied just as snootily, "but James is sick and we both felt it best if he stayed in his room and rested." I was lying through my teeth of course. I still hadn't spoken to James, and Beatrice was absolutely right in assuming I stalled in case he came to the meeting late. But she didn't need to know that.

She cocked her hip, putting her hand on her waist. I resisted rolling my eyes. "Then why didn't you feel the need to share this with us?"

Really, who did this girl think she was? "Because as previously stated: it's none of your business. You seem to be forgetting that I am your Head Girl. In fact, since you apparently need a reminder…ten points from Slytherin."

"What?" she shrieked. "That's completely unfair."

"Keep talking and it will be twenty points."

Beatrice narrowed her eyes, clearly debating whether it was worth it to keep her mouth shut or save face. Apparently, the desire to win the House Cup (and to remain in the good graces of the Slytherins) won out. She sent me a final withering glare and stalked off while muttering obscenities under her breath.

I heard a low chuckle behind me and turned around to see Charles packing up his backpack. "Sorry to eavesdrop," he apologized. "But Wilkinson is an annoying twit."

I gathered whatever papers were in my immediate sight and smiled as he slung his backpack across his shoulders. "Oh, you don't have to apologize. She's vile. And thanks for the save before. It was greatly appreciated."

"Of course. I thought you might need the rescue."

We checked behind us to make sure no one was left in the room and walked out. "So where are you off to now?" he asked me.

"I'm hoping to get to the library before it closes. I still need a book for that Charms paper and I haven't had a chance to go there all day."

He riffled through his bag for a minute and produced the very tome I was looking for. "This one? I'm done with it, if you want."

"That would be so great. Thank you!"

"I must warn you, though," he said with mock seriousness. "It comes at a price."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what's that?"

"Come to the dance with me."

Well I certainly didn't see that coming. "...What?"

"The dance. The one you're planning. The one we just spent an entire meeting talking about. Go with me?"

I looked at Charles, took in his bright blue eyes, and couldn't help but think of James, wherever he was, and the plan I had to ask him. "Oh, er, I was sort of planning to -"

He instantly stood back, a hint of embarrassment flashing across his features. "You're already going with someone."

"Well it's not-"

"No, no, you don't have to explain. I should have known. I mean, of course you'd already have a date. I should have asked you right away, not waited till now to work up the courage."

My heart warmed a little. "You were too nervous to ask me before?"

"Not...nervous. Just you know, bidding my time and...Yes, I was nervous." He laughed and stepped back a foot or so. "Now that I have successfully humiliated myself, I should go. So, just give me back the book when you're done with it, and I'll see you at the dance."

"Charles, wait."

"Yes?"

"I'm not going with anyone."

His look of relief did not go unnoticed. "Really? You're not just saying that because I made a fool of myself and you feel bad? Because I'd hate to disappoint the bloke you already promised to go with. Actually, that's a lie, I wouldn't feel that bad."

I laughed with a genuine smile on my face. "No, I didn't promise anyone I'd go with them. I think I'd really like to go to the dance with you."

"Great. Brilliant. Well, I'll let you get to your work then; it's already pretty late. And I'll come pick you up for the dance? Around 7:30, so we can stop by to check out the Hall in case there are any last minute problems?"

Looking up at him, I was surprised at how lovely that sounded. "Perfect. That's...absolutely perfect."

* * *

"You did what?" James exploded. "Padfoot, you giant tosser! Why the hell would you tell Lily about me and Ophelia?"

Sirius had the good grace to look embarrassed but his voice held no hint of remorse. "Because you're acting like an idiot by ignoring her. She just wanted to know if you were okay because you couldn't be arsed to actually talk to her. So when she saw you and Lia her mind must have been going crazy. Plus, she looked ready to murder you, once she stopped crying, of course."

"She was…crying?"

Sirius nodded fervently. "Oh yeah. Great big bucket loads. Wailing and hysterical – the whole bit." He looked at his friend in disbelief. "No, you moron, she wasn't crying. She was clearly upset though, and it wasn't like you were in a great rush to speak to her."

James hurled a book at his head with all the force he could muster. "And you didn't think that it might be something I wanted to tell her myself? If I wanted to tell her at all?"

"Relax, would you? I only told her the very basics." He rubbed the spot on his head where the book hit him. "Jesus Christ, that hurts. I'll kill you if it bruises."

"It would serve you right." James couldn't believe Sirius had been so stupid. "Who goes and tells his best mate's girl about his previous experiences with another girl? Who besides you, apparently?"

Padfoot grinned in a way that worried him. "Oh, she's your girl now, is she?"

Shit. "You know what I mean. It's none of her business what I got up to before we became friends."

"It's her business when it affects the type of person you are and the way you treat her. And when she has to come find me to talk about it."

"Oh, now we're really getting to it. You were annoyed she bothered you!"

"What? No. Jesus, James, you don't get it. I was trying to help you."

He scoffed. "By showing Lily that in addition to being a complete prat about our situation, I also spectacularly fucked up another good friendship while destroying a perfectly lovely girl? Do you want her to never speak to me again?"

With that, he lunged toward Sirius, knocking him toward the ground. Though the two physically fought regularly (as boys were want to do), it wasn't often that he wanted to hurt his best friend, his brother. But sometimes Sirius went too far.

"Prongs," he said, attempting to shake him off, "think for a second. Telling Lily made sense at the time, okay? Instead of believing you're avoiding her to snog some girl in an abandoned classroom – OW! Would you stop bloody hitting me! – instead of that, she knows the truth!"

James nearly growled as Sirius delivered a swift shot to his gut. "I didn't want her to know."

"And why the bloody hell not?"

"Because she thinks I'm a good person and now that she knows she's going to hate me-"

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Sirius managed to shake him off and pinned him to the floor. "Not this rubbish again. You're downright irritating when you whine, you know that? Stop feeling sorry for yourself."

James shoved him off, winded. He dragged his legs up and rested his elbows on his knees. It was a struggle to regain his breath so he used that as an excuse to wait before answering his friend with words he hated to say. "You're right; I'm being absolutely pathetic."

"Too right you are," Sirius wheezed. "Couldn't you have realized this before the ass kicking?"

"Sorry, mate. You know nothing clears my head like trouncing your sorry ass. You're going soft, Padfoot. It used to take me much longer to beat you."

"Beat me? I kicked your sorry ass!"

"You're kidding, right? You know I –"

"Did you girls kiss and make up yet?" Remus, said, slamming open the door to the Gryffindor boy's dorm, Peter towing in after him. "It's getting tiring listening to your fights."

Sirius laughed and moved out of his way as the sandy haired boy flopped onto his bed, hurling in his school bags after him. "Someone's testy. Is it that time of the month again?"

"Fuck off."

There was a stunned silence that followed his words as the two other boys looked to Peter.

He sighed with a shrug. "We ran into Snape."

Sirius was on his feet immediately. "What'd Snivellus say?"

"Oh you know," came the grumbled response, "just the usual. Romantic murmurs, whispers of sweet nothings. Blimey, Padfoot, what do you _think_? The slimy old bastard!"

Silence greeted his words again. It was very rare for Remus to fly off the handle. Sirius, always. James, often. Even Peter had his moments. But Remus almost always made sure to be calm, to keep his cool, to fight against the very nature he thought defined him. Even though the moment was serious, all three boys couldn't help but grin. Remus was fantastic when angry.

"You know, Prongs," he mumbled, "sometimes I wish you let him die."

This time, the quietness left in the wake of his sentence was uncomfortable and much more static. The near death experience of fifth year was one they rarely, if ever, discussed. The fallout of Sirius' all too rash decision was one from which the Marauders had never recovered. It had easily been the turning point in their friendship. Remus hadn't spoken to them for weeks, spending his days alone and embarrassed at himself and his friends, the only brothers he had ever had.

It had been the first time in years James could remember Sirius apologizing, the first time he had truly felt he'd done something wrong – but not to Snape. He didn't give a piss about him. But he _had_ done something horrible to Remus; he exposed him, and even worse, used him - took the one thing Remus hated about himself and turned it against him all for the sake of a prank. The wicked part of it all was that it put them in Snape's mercy, the very last place they wanted to be. It had been forgiven in time and they had moved on, but James knew that a part of Remus - and he wasn't sure how big the part - would never be able to completely forgive his friend.

Peter looked at him in alarm, clearly expecting him to do something.

James swallowed and prayed he wouldn't make it worse. "You don't mean that."

"Don't I?" Remus said harshly. "Don't tell me you never wonder what might have happened if you didn't help him."

He had no reply for this. In truth, he hadn't wondered, if only because he knew there was no other alternative. The way it happened was the only possible way it _could_ have happened and that was all he thought about it. He would not, could not, think about any other result, because it simply would have been impossible to live with, for all of them.

"I hate this," Peter announced. "We used to…to _own_ him, yeah? And now it's like he owns us."

"No one bloody owns us," Sirius spoke up, with a dark look in his eye. "No one owns the Marauders, least of all Snivellus. He'll get what's coming to him. One day he'll get it from someone worse than even us."

"Like Dumbledore?" James asked, attempting to lighten the mood.

Remus laughed, and they all breathed a sigh of a relief that the moment – for now – was over. "Maybe even McGonagall," Remus said.

"So Prongs, not that we don't love having you around but if you're giving up your spacious single pad I'd be more than happy to take your spot," said Remus, clearly changing the subject. Though he would have loved to talk about almost anything else, the subject of living arrangements was not one of those things.

"I'm not giving it up."

Remus raised his eyebrows. "Then why aren't you living in it?"

"Because," Sirius spoke up before James had a chance, "he's afraid of Lily."

"Oi, I am not afraid of Lily! I'm just trying to smooth things over for a bit."

"Smooth things over? Blimey. You're my best mate and all but I think this living with a girl business has finally turned you into one."

Peter and Remus snickered while James rolled his eyes. "Do you really want another beating, Padfoot? I personally think once was enough but if you don't agree-"

"We both know that I beat you -"

"And we _all _know that neither of you will actually win ever so get on with it," said Peter. "The quicker you get this over with, the sooner you can make things right with Lily."

James looked at his three friends. Behind the goofy grins he knew something serious was going on. Peter kept looking at the floor and biting his lip. Remus looked too smiley and happy and only Sirius seemed comfortable and still which meant something was wrong.

"Alright out with it. What's going on?"

"Nothing," they chorused.

It was silent for a moment as he stared them down.

Finally, Peter broke. " They think, and I agree, that…err...that you fancy Lily, and that's why you're being such a prat but you shouldn't because even though she's very pretty and much smarter and nicer and generally too good for you, you would be really good together."

He looked to Remus and Sirius for confirmation and they nodded their assent.

James shook his head. "You lot are absolutely mad." He sighed. "But I must be mad alongside you. Well lads, now that it's all out in the open – what the bloody hell am I going to do about this?"

The Marauders glanced at each other.

"Hope that a sudden brain defect makes Lily fall helplessly in love with you, even though it's completely against all rhyme or reason?"

"Exactly."

Sirius laughed. "Or you may want to start by pulling your head out of your ass and just talking to her."

"That could work."

* * *

Two hours after the meeting, I stumbled back into my dark common room, yawning as I failed miserably to keep my eyes open. The Charms essay had taken much longer than I anticipated. Of course, I'd also gone well over the required seventeen inches of parchment, but that couldn't be helped.

The cold temperature of the room chilled me instantly and I pointed my wand at the fireplace to get a fire going. The flames cast a dim light around the room, creating shadows that danced on the wall. As I put down my books on a nearby table, I noticed a lump in front of the fireplace that I had not been able to make out in the dark.

"James?" I questioned quietly, my eyes still trying to adjust to the semi-darkness.

The prone figure gave no answer as I moved closer. It had to be James; no one else would be here this late, but it made no sense. James hadn't been to the head room in days, and even if he was here now, why sleep on the cold floor when he could have gone to his room?

As I got closer, I realized that, indeed, it was James – asleep, snoring, and tangled in a mess of the throw blankets we usually kept on the couch. No, not snoring…mumbling, twisting, and turning. _Oh Merlin_, I thought, _he's having a nightmare_.

I sank to my knees when I reached him, my heart nearly ripping at the sight. I hadn't been this close to him in days, hadn't seen more than fleeting glances, but now that I was looking straight at him… Maybe it was the lack of light in the room. Maybe it was the way the crackling fire cast shadows over his face. Maybe it was just my paranoia. But he looked so… drained. There were bags under his eyes I was sure hadn't been there last week. His face held that yellow, almost sickly look of someone who wasn't getting enough sleep. He looked the same way I did, only days ago.

And yet, as preposterous as it was, I couldn't help but remember how I felt in that corridor not too long ago, with his body pressed against mine, the look in his eyes, the rapid beat of his heart, the way I had kissed his neck, how I had actually…oh god, had actually wanted him to kiss me.

I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my mind. Where the hell did that thought, that image, come from? And more importantly, why did it make me feel so damn hot?

James mumbled something again and my face heated at the direction my thoughts were going. How could I sit here, obsessing over a silly lapse in judgment, when I should have been helping him or, at the very least, leaving him alone?

He moaned, his head turning, "No...Don't go..."

My stomach turned. What was he dreaming about? I pressed my hand to his forehead and gasped when I felt how hot he was. His skin felt like it was on fire, and now that I looked closer I could see a thin sheen of sweat on his face and down his neck. James mumbled again, kicking the blanket around his legs. They were getting tangled the more he kept fighting with them, and it would have looked almost comical to me, if I hadn't been so worried. I grabbed the throw and pulled, trying to untangle it from his legs. Only it was as if James was determined to put up a fight, even unconscious. Every time I moved them one way, he would flail and kick in the other direction.

"Even in your sleep you like to get me hacked off at you," I murmured, glaring at his sleeping body.

But then he shivered, despite how hot the rest of him was, and I forgot how to be annoyed at all. He let out a low moan, and I shivered as well. "Please," he was whispering, his head thrashing from side to side. "Don't go. Not yet. Please, God, don't leave. Don't…"

I moved near his face, brushing the hair away from his eyes. I tried to wake him, almost frantic in my desperation. "James," I whispered right by his ear, "wake up. Come on, wake up." I shook his shoulders and placed a small kiss to his temple. "Please, love, come on, you need to get up." I had no idea what I was saying anymore, or how many endearments I was using. I couldn't calculate the exact moment that I began to struggle with getting him to sit up. I had no recollection of when I drew him into my arms, running my hands over his back in what I hoped what a soothing pattern, placing kisses to the top of his head, and trying not to fall over when he twisted. I just knew that I was doing it.

I rocked him back and forth as much as I could and attempted to calm his body down for when he woke up. "Don't leave," he kept whispering in broken, slurred tones. "Not yet. It's not fair. Too soon, it's too soon."

With a sickening feeling I realized what he was dreaming about. I rocked him harder, now desperate to wake him. "James, wake up. You need to get up. Please, get up."

"God no, please, don't. Don't leave me. No, Evey, get up, please."

"James," I shook him, running my hand through that unruly mop of his, begging for him to open his eyes. "You need to get up." I tried to keep my voice calm, but I was starting to shake from the strain of holding him up and the sheer of intensity of the situation.

James shuddered again, but his eyes were opening. They were rimmed with a tint of red and held that hazy, almost filmy quality to them that let me know he was only half awake. "Whozat? Waz goin on? Wa the-"

"It's just me," I whispered.

He squinted, and I realized for the first time that he wasn't wearing his glasses. "Lily?"

I nodded wordlessly, wondering how I could explain why I was up at all hours of the night, with my arms wrapped around someone I'd barely spoken to in four days.

"Oh." He swallowed. "Hi."

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?" he asked groggily, rubbing his eyes.

I smirked. "I live here."

"Wha-" James sat up suddenly, looking around. His shoulders slumped. "Oh, shit. You're…" He leaned against the couch turning to face me. He seemed resigned about something and sighed before saying anything else. "Hi, Lily."

"Hi, James," I said, frowning. I wish I understood his train of thought. It was so difficult to follow his thoughts, more so than I imagined.

"You were having a nightmare," I whispered, feeling the need to explain. I never had to try so hard to keep my voice from shaking. "It looked...bad. I just – I…just wanted to wake you up."

Any traces of a smile left his face. He nodded, closing his eyes. "How much did you hear?"

I thought for a moment. "Not…not too much. Just, you know, mumbling," I ducked my head a bit from his burning gaze, "…and stuff." He gave me a look to show that he clearly wasn't buying it. Still, it was fairly obvious that he was embarrassed, and for good reason. I had stumbled across something I was sure most people didn't know about. Something I was sure he didn't want me to know about. Something he didn't want to occur in the first place. Telling him I knew would make him more uncomfortable. Keeping it from him would make him angry. I basically had to choose between the lesser of two evils. I chose the first. "I know it was about Evelien."

His head slumped.

"I'm sorry," I added quickly. There was no reason, I knew, but I felt like I'd intruded on something private and an apology was the least I could do.

"Nah, I'm the one who fell asleep in the middle of the blasted room."

"Do you, uh, have nightmares like that often? I mean, you don't have to tell me. I was just wondering. It looked pretty bad and it would be really hard to deal with that…a lot." Merlin, could I sound any more like a blubbering fool around him?

"It used to happen a lot when I was younger. Now it just happens when things get really bad with her, or if I think about it too much."

"Oh." An awkward silence followed as I realized I still had my arms wrapped around him. I let go almost clumsily and sat upright, my hands folded in my lap, feeling like the world's biggest idiot.

James yawned and stretched his arms while he sat up as well, and shot me a grin. "Just when I was getting comfortable."

My face reddened instantly in embarrassment and I ducked my head slightly. "I'm sorry about that," I said quickly. "You were just thrashing about, and I wanted to wake you up, but I didn't know what else to do, and –"

"Lily, I know. I was just taking the mickey. Don't even worry about it."

"I was just worried," I continued, more to myself than to James, "and I thought it would help. I mean, I didn't do it just too…well it's not like I wanted to, you know, hug you or anything, I just needed to wake you up and it was the first thing that entered my mind. Not because it was on my mind, far from it; I wasn't thinking about doing it or anything, and I didn't really _mean_ to, and I didn't want to –"

"Jeez, Lily, I'm so glad that even the thought of being close to me puts you off so much."

I lifted my head to look at him. "What?"

He frowned. "It just thrills me to hear your aversion to being anywhere near me. For Merlin's sake, look at your right now! You're barely able to sit there, ready to bolt at any second."

"Oh, that's rich, coming from the guy who's been avoiding me for a week because of some stupid…" _Bloody hell, no, why did I bring this up? Why, why, why?_

"Some stupid what, Lily?"

"Nothing." I mumbled. "Forget it."

"No, tell me. What stupid event would you be referring to? After all, you couldn't possibly be thinking of that time in the hallway when-"

I looked at him pleadingly. Didn't he get that I didn't want to talk about this? "James, please. Don't."

"Don't what? Don't talk about how we almost kissed?" I shut my eyes desperately, trying in vain to stop the memory from flooding in. "Or should I not talk about how you decided the idea was so terrible that you brought up Dumbledore just to-"

"Oh how would you know what I was even thinking?" I shrieked furiously. I could feel myself reaching that dangerous point where I stopped caring what I said and instead just blurted out the first things that came to mind. "Up until now, you haven't spoken a single word to me! Don't sit there on your high horse and act all wounded when it's obvious that if anyone was _really_ repulsed by what happened, it was you."

It was James' turn to gape. "Is that what you think? You thought I was…Oh, Lily, _no_." He moved closer to sit right in front of me and took my hands. His were unbelievably warm.

"Lil, I swear that's not what I thought at all."

"Really?" I asked in a quiet voice.

"Really. You didn't repulse me. Merlin, you…you drove me mad. Absolutely bonkers. That's why I was avoiding you. You have no idea how much willpower it took to stay away from you that night, and how much…how many times I've thought about it since then. So I knew that I had to stay away from you for a little while because, well, I just don't have _that_ much willpower. I mean if you knew what was going through my mind this week…well let's just say you wouldn't be comfortable talking with me right now."

I felt so hot I thought I was going to explode. I put my hands to my flaming cheeks and tried to calm down. "God, James. You can't just say things like that."

"Why not?" he asked with a shrug. "It's true. Does it make you uncomfortable?"

"No."

The truth was, it did make me uncomfortable, horribly uncomfortable, but not because he said it. No, it made me uncomfortable because I liked hearing it so much. Too much.

He smiled knowingly. "You're a horrible liar, Lily."

"James?"

"Yes?"

"I understand why you did it…you know, avoided me. But it just seems so unlike you. Aren't you the poster child for saying what you want to say, doing what you want to do, right when you want to do it? You're pretty much Mr. Impulsive. I don't get it."

He laughed softly. "I'm not exactly Mr. Impulsive. I do occasionally think before I act. I mean, the problem with saying what you want and doing what you want in this case was that I didn't know what I wanted to say or do."

"Oh." I slowly looked away from the fire and turned my head to look at him. "And now?"

He looked confused. "And now what?"

_Keep looking at him_, I ordered myself, _keep looking_. "Now do you know what you want?"

James took almost a full minute to respond. "No," he said. "I have no idea."

I nodded for lack of anything better to do and grimaced as a sharp pain shot up my neck and spread to my shoulders.

He noticed, concern flashing across his face. "Are you okay?"

I tried to nod again but that ended up hurting even more. "Yeah, I'm fine," I replied instead, rubbing at my neck. "I get this all the time when I'm stressed or tired. If I just…" I tried turning my head to the side, "_Ow_. If I relax, it goes away." He didn't look too convinced so I added, "Hey, it's nothing, I swear."

"Turn around."

"What?"

He just motioned in a circular pattern with his hand. "Just trust me."

The last time he had said those words, I ended up pressed against him in a dark hallway while he hid from teachers and I kissed his neck. Disastrous, really.

"Okay."

I turned around and folded my hands in my lap, waiting. James gathered my hair and let if fall over one shoulder before gently digging his palms into my neck. I jumped, a bit surprised.

He dropped his hands instantly. "Are you okay?" he asked again in his voice low right against my ear.

"Mhmm." I didn't trust myself to actually form words because I was afraid it'd all come out in whimpers. "You can, umm, keep going, if you want."

He chuckled and brought his hands to my neck once again. I sighed softly as his hands began to work out the kinks and knots.

"Consider this my formal apology for being such a prat." When he spoke, the whisper was so deep and thrilling I honestly thought I might faint on the spot. This was bordering on absurd. There was nothing about a voice that should be able to hold such power over a person, and yet I knew James could have asked me to run starkers through the Great Hall and I probably would have agreed. Of course, the marvelous job his hands were doing wasn't helping me stay coherent. His fingers were firm and gentle at the same time, his movements slow and deliberate. Every so often, he would simply glide the tips of his fingers across my shoulders, and even through the thick layer of clothing, I could feel the heat from his touch.

"I think you're almost forgiven."

"Just almost?"

"Well ignoring me _was_ a really daft decision. And you did leave me alone at the meeting. I had to cover for you, and I was not very good at it."

He laughed and I barely suppressed a groan when his fingers dug into the crook of my neck. When I felt the tingling of moisture from his lips where his fingers had been only seconds before, I couldn't suppress it any more.

It should have shocked me, should have scandalized me, should have made me come to my senses and run to my room.

It should have. But it didn't.

I could feel his hesitation, his worry, as he sat silently behind me, his now tense hands resting loosely on my hips. I grabbed them, winding my fingers over his, squeezing them softly as my silent answer to his silent question. I only hoped he knew what I meant. But he was waiting still, even after he squeezed them back, waiting to hear from me, waiting for me to say something. So I did.

"Don't stop."

It was strange, the way my voice sounded - husky, low, sexy maybe – when I said it. It might have been a breath of a whisper coming out of my mouth, but it sounded so loud in that empty room. It seemed to echo, my own words coming back at me 100 times per second. _Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop…_over and over and over. I heard James swallow, anticipating his next move – though the tiny part of my mind that wasn't taken over by sensation and feeling and dizziness screamed that I shouldn't. But the air had somehow changed around us. It was thicker, more serious…lustful, even. I suddenly felt a ridiculous need for James to touch me somewhere, anywhere. My leg, my elbow, my nose, my eyebrow, I didn't care, so long as I could feel him.

I nearly moaned when his hands moved down my spine to work on my lower back. It was only my neck that hurt, and I was fairly certain he knew that. But if he couldn't remember, I definitely wasn't going to remind him, especially not when his fingers were playing with the edge of my sweater so deliciously.

"So," he said casually, as his hand touched the skin of my waist. "You covered for me?"

"I _attempted _to," I corrected. My voice was coming in such a high pitch I was sure he couldn't understand it. "I don't think anyone took me seriously."

"I doubt that."

Was that a hitch to his voice too? Was I imagining things now? Was I really just going as insane as his hands made me feel? "No, really. I even had to take off points from Slytherin to get Beatrice Wilkins to back off."

"You took off points from Slytherin in order to cover for me, even though I left you alone at the meeting to deal with everything yourself _and _avoided you like an idiot for almost a week?"

It was so hard to concentrate on his question when all I could think was _Oh dear God, please do not stop touching me because I think I might die on the spot if you do._ "Um…yes?"

"Wow."

"What?"

"It's just that you are absolutely…"

I could feel his breath against my neck and couldn't contain the shiver. If James noticed he made no mention of it. "Absolutely what?" I whispered as I turned my head very slightly to face him.

"Absolutely incredible."

I could only gulp in reply. "Thank you."

James chuckled and let go of my waist to run a hand through his hair. I tried not to look too mournful that he was no longer touching me. "I think I'm wearing off on you. I just complimented you and you didn't even blush."

I smirked and moved so that I was fully facing him. "Well the compliment itself wears off when I hear the same thing from you every week. After a person hears that she's absolutely incredibly more than once, it has to sink in a bit."

"It should sink in. I really mean it. You've really become one of my best friends, and I'm not friends with just anyone."

"I'm glad you feel that way. After last week, I really wasn't sure. I thought maybe I'd ruined things-"

"Lily, please, whatever you think, don't think that. I was completely wrong. I thought maybe I was doing the right thing by staying away for a few days. I was planning on talking to you and almost…starting over? You know, trying to ease back into it. It might have been a decent plan if I wasn't asleep in front of the bloody fireplace as soon as you walked in tonight."

"Yes, why were you sleeping down here? Your bedroom is right up the stairs."

"I was just up reading some of the notes you left from the meeting I'd missed and I must have fallen asleep."

"I left notes?" I groaned. "I thought I had gotten them all. Oh, I'm going to kill Wilkins; she just put me into such a worked up state."

He tilted my chin up with his finger. "I'm sorry, Lily. I mean it. Not because of the notes, because they were just about the dance and you have to relax because it's not a big deal. But I am sorry for doing the one thing I said I wouldn't."

"What are you talking about?"

"I told you I wouldn't leave you with all the work. Do you remember - that first day in the Great Hall, right after the feast? I really did mean it. I don't want you to think that you have to do all of this alone."

"James, it was just one meeting. Honestly, _you _have to relax, because it's not a big deal," I told him, mimicking his words. "And besides, I think you've more than made up for it."

"So I'm fully forgiven now?"

I smiled at him. "Absolutely."

"Good. I don't think I have the energy to stay up much longer and…continue my apology.

My entire body heated at the thought. "It is getting ridiculously late," I whispered. "Maybe we should get to bed."

"Evans, I know you can't get enough of me, but I never thought you'd be so forward."

Horrified, I looked up at him sharply. "What? No, I didn't mean-"

"Relax, love," he said. "I was only joking, I know what you meant. Unless of course, I just brought to mind a wealth of suppressed fantasies for you, in which case I'd be more than willing to oblige."

I smacked his arm and concentrated very hard on not laughing, though it didn't work. "You're great big pervert. Really though, James. We both need to actually sleep. Separately."

"Separately? Do we really have to?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

He didn't sound like he was joking anymore. "Do you actually believe that I would-"

"No, no," he said quickly. "Now who's the pervert? I just meant sleeping…if you didn't mind, to stay with me tonight? I feel better with you around."

My heart pounded in my chest. Sleeping in a bed with someone you were dangerously attracted to was never a safe choice. Every time I was around James it resulted in the embarrassment of at least one, if not both, of us. Never the less, I found myself nodding.

"Okay," I replied.

"We can take your bed if that makes you more comfortable."

Sweet Merlin, just the image of James lying in my bed was too ridiculous to fathom. Then again, the idea of being in his bed made my head spin.

"Why don't we stay here instead?" I offered. "You've made it quite comfortable and the fire is still going."

He shrugged and stretched his arm across my body. "Sure."

I held my breath and kept extremely still. He was very close to me. "What are you doing?"

"Getting you a pillow from the couch," he replied, handing me the large gold one from the corner, as well as another throw blanket.

"Oh."

I put the pillow on floor and laid down in the stiffest possibly position, keeping my hands, arms, and legs right next to my body. James placed the throw over me and frowned.

"Lily?'

"Hmm?" Did my voice sound as frantic as I thought?

"I'm not going to do anything. You know that, right?"

"What?" Oh no, now my palms were sweaty.

"I won't try anything. I mean, I know what I said before, about what I was thinking, but I wouldn't do anything to make you uncomfortable. That's not why I asked-"

"I know," I interrupted, staring at the ceiling. "I know that."

"Then why do you look like you're afraid I'll attack you?

"I don't. And I'm not."

"So you typically sleep as if you're in a coffin?" His voice was teasing and it calmed me. I was being silly, I rationalized. But why did I still feel worried?

James reached for my hand, keeping a safe distance so as not to startle me. Squeezing my fingers gently, he laid down as well, a few inches away. The pounding of my heart went into overdrive. I let go of his hand in a way I hoped was subtle. It was almost a frenetic panic now, which was coursing through my body at reckless speeds. What the hell was wrong with me?

"I swear, Lil, I have no intention to try anything."

"I know," I said. And I did know. But it did nothing to calm my nerves. _Breathe_, I told myself, _breathe_. _You're acting completely barmy_. Slowly, I turned on my side to face him. "I'm sorry," I whispered to him, "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"Maybe this isn't a good idea."

"No, this is fine. I'm fine. I'm just being stupid." To prove this to him, as well as to myself, I moved closer, lightly resting my head against his shoulder. _There_, I thought, _that was okay_.

"You sure?" he asked, turning his head to look at me.

"Positive."

"Okay." He brought his arm around me and squeezed before letting me go once more. "Good night."

"Night." The feeling was back, only now it was bitter, almost resentful.

I stayed awake for much of the night, long after I knew James had fallen asleep, trying to process my own mind. Maybe I _was_ just going insane. I needed to relax and stop being such a twit. I had no intention of being locked in the loony bin at Saint Mungos. No intention…

I gasped aloud, and then froze to make sure I hadn't woken him up. When I was sure I didn't, I let myself quietly freak out.

"_I swear, Lil, I have no intention of trying anything_."

Oh Merlin, that was it. Suddenly, I was able to identity the fierce pangs that floated through my body.

Disappointment.

James Potter was sleeping with me right by his side, had grabbed my hand, had put his arm around me. He had touched and kissed my neck, had all but caressed my waist, had to have known that I had some reaction to it. But he had no _intention_ to do anything else with me. It should have put me at ease that things could return to normal and stop being so awkward and strained. But I wasn't at ease.

I looked at James' face, took in his steady breathing, and assessed the casual way his arm was pushed up against mine. He was definitely sound asleep.

And I was definitely disappointed.

* * *

_Lily, _

_Morning, sleepyhead. I would have woken you before I left but you looked too comfortable and probably would have hexed me if I tried – though it would serve you right considering how many times you woke me up. Luckily for you, I was running late anyway and didn't have a chance. Point is, sorry to ditch you and miss out on the awkward morning after. And how I long to experience your bed head and morning breath for myself. Perhaps another time._

_- James_

_PS – You are by far the most comfortable pillow I've ever used._

_PPS – I quite enjoyed the multiple kicks during the night. Really, my shins thank you._

_PPPS – You're the best, Lil. Thanks._

I smiled to myself and stretched as I read James' note. He might have thought he was being sneaky, running off at nearly dawn for adventures unknown, but I'd woken up nearly every time he moved that night. The morning was no exception.

It was the most uncomfortable sleep of my life, though it was no fault of his. I had held my breath for most of it, frozen with…anticipation? Worry? General awkwardness? At one point during the evening he had turned over on his side, his chest completely aligned against my back, an arm thrown against my body almost protectively. His hand had fallen to a point not far from my own and I could still feel the way my pulsed raced as my own hand tingled from the proximity. I had wanted so badly to just reach up my fingers and tangle them with his, to mold myself to him. I must have laid there for a good ten minutes, staring at his arm and debating with myself. But by then James had moved over onto his back again – apparently he was even more of a restless sleeper than I was – his hand out of my reach.

I had slept horribly, mainly because I hadn't slept at all. I must have gotten a grand total of two hours of rest by 4 am and only because my body was too exhausted to stay away for much longer. I hadn't been able to stop myself from rolling over as well, curling up against him, matching my uneven breathing to his. Only it seemed that this wasn't as smooth and graceful a transition as I hoped, rather one involving lots of kicking. Oh well, he deserved it for being such a ruddy git, and for keeping me up half the night…even if the latter wasn't entirely his fault.

I groaned and rolled over to James' side of the makeshift bed, berating myself for being such a loony about this whole business. But I couldn't help it if such…closeness and intimacy, really, unnerved me, especially since it seemed James was so nonchalant about it. It was as if noting fazed him, the lucky prat. Well, alright, that wasn't entirely true. I happened to know a few things that did indeed faze him; I was even on that list.

Sighing, I sat up, clutching his pillow to my body. What was it about James that made me act like such a blasted fool? Why was it that I could never act like a normal, fully functioning human being around him? How did he manage to get me to do and say and feel things that simply weren't _me_? And why didn't I seem to mind as much as I should have that he was changing me, whether he realized it or not?

I got up reluctantly, folding up the throw blanket and setting it back on the couch. I straightened up the common area as much as I could and decided that I still had enough time to go to sleep and regain some energy. Without thinking about it too much, I grabbed the red and gold pillow James had been sleeping on and brought it with me. Once in my room, I changed into the rattiest and most comfortably oversized t-shirt I could find and collapsed into my bed. I gathered his pillow and groaned to myself. Maybe bringing it with me wasn't such a good idea after all, not if I wanted to sleep. I fluffed it out, pounded it on the bed, switched the sides, and tried again. This time I groaned aloud.

It still smelled like him.

* * *

_Not my best work. I'm sorry it sounds so horribly American. _

_Till next time…_


	7. White Lies and Perfect Dances

_It's tough trying to enter the real world. I much prefer Lily and James and love stories that I have full control over. But I suppose if my characters have to grow up, so I do. At some point, anyway._

_Just as a quick note...I go between Lily's POV and James' POV quite a bit this chapter. It should be clear, but just in case - Lily's POV is in the first person and James' is in the third. Some days I found the back and forth to be annoying; other days I quite liked it, so I'm curious to know your thoughts, especially as it's already in the next chapter. Though I don't think you guys will mind it then. ;)_

_//edit// I didn't realize when I uploaded the chapter originally that the track changes feature I use was showing up...sorry to all those who read it with the mistakes in! I switched in to the right chapter. _

* * *

**Chapter 7: White Lies and Perfect Dances**

The week had passed by in an infuriating combination of ultra speed and torturously slow time. Sleep became a foreign concept as every free moment I had that wasn't being spent on studying for exams or writing essays was used to finish preparations for the dance. The band that we had hired weeks in advance was giving us immense trouble, causing me to spend many a night huddled in Professor McGonagall's office, communicating via fireplace and all but begging that they honor the terms of their agreement while she looked on disapprovingly.

Then some of the Prefects began complaining once again that it was such a shame to end the night at eleven, and so James and I were forced to convince Dumbledore to extend the curfew until midnight. Of course, then we also had to spend an entire evening two nights ago decorating the Great Hall itself, after which Peeves decided it would be a jolly good time to replace all the decorations with stink pellets, whizzing worms, and dungbombs. I'd had to stay late again, this time with a much smaller group, one that was missing James as he informed me that McGonagall had given him a detention. My eyebrows furrowed in thought as I recalled the strange and hectic night.

_ A wave of black robes ran past my position on the couch in flurry, stuffing what seemed to be parchment and shiny silver material into a large bag._

_ "Bye, Lily, gotta go – don't wait up!" _

_ He was halfway out the portrait hole while he yelled in my general direction so I scrambled to my feet. "Wait! Where are you going? We have to meet the prefects and fix what Peeves did. We're supposed to be there in ten minutes." _

_ "Oh bloody buggering hell!" he cursed in rapid succession. "I can't, I'm so sorry, but I've got a detention with McGonagall and I'm already late and I can't leave th- err, her waiting. I have to go, I'm sorry!" He was out of the portrait hole before I could stop him. "I'll make it up to you, promise!" Then he was out again, practically flying away, black robes billowing out behind him…_

And that wasn't the strangest part. True, it was a lot more stressful, not having an extra pair of hands when they were so desperately needed, especially ones that were as capable as James'. But, I reasoned with myself, if Professor McGonagall had given him a detention, there was nothing I could do about it.

Until Professor McGonagall had come into the Great Hall.

_One second Charles was telling me how nice the full moon looked against the night sky as I cursed the head of my house for keeping our Head Boy so detained, and the next she was walking in calmly to assess our work. _

_ "Miss Evans, the icicles on the right could use some more shine."_

_ "Sorry," I said breezily, "but we've been transfiguring them from the glasses and James is really the best with transfiguration." Hint hint, please let him down to help because we're drowning here. _

_ She pursed her lips and took out her wand, adjusting the shine so the icicles very nearly glittered every which way looked at them. "Where is our Head Boy this evening? I know this was not a mandatory meeting but I had rather thought he would be here anyway."_

_ I left Charles to adjust the height of the candles and quickly followed Professor McGonagall as she surveyed the rest of the hall. _

_ "Err, I beg your pardon, but doesn't he have a detention with you?"_

_ "With me? Heavens no. Whatever foolishness had landed him in trouble, for once, has not been on my watch." _

_ "But he said –"_

_ "I assure you, Miss Evans, I did not give him any sort of detention. Perhaps he said it was another teacher and you misunderstood him."_

_ I nodded, flushed and embarrassed. I didn't push the matter but I knew I hadn't misheard. Which meant only one thing._

_ James was lying to me._

White lies aside, managed well without James in the end, even though Charles and I had to stay until well after everyone else left. It was hours before we cast the final concealment and protection charms on the hall, taking no chances with Peeves again. When I had finally made it back to my room, James still hadn't returned and though I was determined to stay awake and interrogate him, my exhaustion prevented it from actually happening. I slept as late as possible the next day and didn't hear him when he came back in. When I eventually did wake up, he was already passed out on his bed (not that I checked), clothes still on from the night before, looking messy and rumbled and even a little dirty. Much as I wanted to know what he'd been up to, I couldn't bring myself to disturb his sleep. Plus, I didn't want to be caught creeping about his room first thing in the morning.

Needless to say, by the time Sophie came over to help me get ready, I was in a state of near insanity over many things andsince schoolwork and ball preparations had kept me from talking to her over the week, I still hadn't told her about the occurrences of last weekend. I tried to gloss over it quickly so I could move on to more pressing issues…such as the fact that Charles would be there any minute, I was still in my dressing gown, my hair was an absolute mess, and every beauty product I owned was in the bathroom where James was currently showering. Sophie was completely unconcerned by that, however, and could only focus on one thing.

"You slept with James? Oh Lily, you are such a scarlet woman!"

I rolled my eyes at Sophie's antics and attempted once again to keep a stubborn lock of hair from escaping what was supposed to be an elegant twist at the nape of my neck. "That's not how I meant and you know it. Now could you please do something productive and help me with my hair?"

"Someone's irritated," she grumbled but nonetheless got off the bed. "Maybe if you stop fussing with it so much your hair will stay put. Why are you so frantic? We still have a good forty minutes."

"Oh no, oh no, oh no…he's going to be here in ten minutes!" I whined. "We agreed to meet early to see if there were any other last minute issues to take care of, and now my stupid hair is going to make us late."

Sophie attempted to tuck the stray piece back and said with a thoughtful expression, "Well actually, if you're late for being early, you'll only be on time…" She trailed off upon seeing my murderous glare. "Or not, okay. Err, why not just use some Sleekeazy's on the hair? It should definitely hold in place."

"I would love to use my bottle of Sleekeazy's," I said loudly while walking towards the bathroom, "except that I keep that item in the bathroom and it would seem that _someone_ is too busy frolicking in the shower and I can't go in to get it!"

I could hear James' laughter even through the running water. "Well, love, you could come right in to get it; I don't mind. Of course I _am_ naked, with my manly bits hanging out and whatnot. So just try not to trample the door down in a mad stampede to get in and see me in all my glory-"

"I have no desire to see your glory. Though how _glorious_ can it be when you yourself referred to it as bits?" I yelled.

"Oy, you wound me. Now you have to come in here and let me prove you wrong. My manhood is very much at stake."

I snorted. "I'm sure your manhood is just fine, James. My hair, however, is not. So could you please just hurry up and get out already?"

"Otherwise," called Sophie, "she'll just have to come in there and de-glorify you!"

"What?" I said, shocked, over James' raucous laughter. "No, no, no I won't. But please, just get –"

"Calm down, Lils," he yelled as I heard the water shut off. "You can take care of your hair emergency soon enough."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank Merlin."

Sophie frowned from across the room. "Really, you have plenty of time. Stop worrying."

I paced up and down the carpet, biting my lip nervously. "You're right. I'm sorry I'm being so horrid but I'm nervous. Anything that goes wrong is on my shoulders."

"Now that's just not true," James said as he stuck his head out from the bathroom. He grinned, water dripping from his wet hair. "It'll fall on my shoulders too. And I don't know if you've noticed, but they are fairly broad."

I glared and crossed my arms over my chest. "You're getting the floor wet," I said dryly.

"Aw, Lil, don't be so hacked off with me; I have your hair gunk right here."

I heard Sophie's sharp, almost imperceptible intake of breath when he calmly waked out of the bathroom and into my room, a fluffy white towel tied neatly around his waist. Luckily, I was immune to that image by now and was thereby properly able to focus on my stress.

"I am not hacked off with you. I just have a very limited amount of the time in which to get ready, and my hair is not cooperating with me at all, and I still have to get dressed, and Charles will be here in fifteen minutes and – "

James put his still damp hands on my shoulders and bent his head so it was level to my own. "And you need to remember to breathe and not drive yourself mad. It's a dance…this is supposed to be fun."

I was finding it very hard to think, let alone breathe when his body was so close to mine. I closed my eyes for a second to regroup and then force all my attention on his face instead.

"Err, while you're vocally sedating her," piped up Sophie, "I'm going to pop into the loo," She gave me a pointed look as she went in, which I just as pointedly ignored.

_You're immune to this_, I thought to myself. _This is not the first time you've seen him in a towel nor is this the first time you've been so close to him…although this is the first time you've been so close to him in a towel. _Okay, so maybe I wasn't as immune as I thought.

"Really, you need to relax. Your hair looks fine," he paused for a second, then frowned, "well, except for this one piece here." He touched the nasty offender and rolled the strands through his fingers.

"See!" I shrieked, my voice higher than absolutely necessary. "The stupid piece won't stay back and Charles will be here any minute and if you noticed it, then he definitely will."

He laughed and tucked the tendril behind my ear in a very sweet gesture. My hysteria instantly died down when he cupped my cheek and tilted my head up. I gulped when I realized I was staring directly at him.

"I was joking. I only noticed because you've been screeching about it to Sophie. If Charles is any sort of decent bloke he won't give a damn even if he does notice." He paused again and his voice dropped to a near whisper. "Although if he's able to focus on anything other than how utterly incredible you look, well, he's a bloody idiot."

"Thanks," I managed to mumble quietly. "But you have to say that because you're my friend."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I don't _have_ to say anything. I want to. And it's not because you're my friend and I feel like I should. I'm saying it because it's true and I think you should know it."

I told myself that the fact that James thought I looked incredible shouldn't matter, but the brilliant smile I knew was stretched across my features betrayed me. There was something about the way he said it, simple and straightforward and very matter of fact - and I couldn't help but believe him.

"I should probably get dressed," he mused. "I don't think McGonagall would appreciate my near nakedness at a school function."

_She would if she had any idea what it looked like_, I thought about saying. Instead I laughed and nodded my head. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

"Well alright then, I suppose I'll see you downstairs. Unless you'd like me to stick around and interrogate Charles when he gets here."

I snorted. "Right, I'm sure he'll be very threatened by someone in a fluffy towel."

"You wound my ego, Miss Evans, you truly do. But that's alright; you can make it up to me by saving me a dance tonight."

I pretended to think about it. "I'll see if I can manage that; my dance card _is_ very full."

"Aw, don't you think you'll be able to fit me in?"

"Well I don't know. My list of suitors is very long. What sets you apart?"

"Apart from my dashing good looks, fantastic sense of humor, and keen intelligence, you mean?"

"Don't forget your winning modesty! But yes, what else apart from that?"

He grinned. "Well, love, despite the implications of your earlier jabs, I have quite an enormous –"

"Okay!" I said nervously. "If you promise not to finish that sentence, I'll save you a dance."

James smiled from the doorway. "See, that's what sets me apart. I always know the right thing to say." He winked before leaving.

Approximately three seconds later the door to the bathroom burst open and Sophie huffed out. "Well it's about time!"

"What?"

"I didn't realize I'd have to be in there so long. You and James have _got _to cut your conversations shorter."

"Did you really just leave the room so James and I would be alone?"

"Err…of course."

I laughed and uncapped the tube of Sleekeazy's. "Sophie, you're insane."

"Yes, and you're welcome. You should be more appreciative. That bathroom was very steamy…although I'm sure not as steamy as it was in here."

I laughed as I began the battle with my hair again and tried not to over think Sophie's statement or the reason why my heart was pounding so much, or why I could still feel James' hand on my face. I especially tried not to over think my sudden urge to go to the dance with James, to be his date, to dance and twirl around as he held me, to smile at him, to hold his hand, to –

"Anyway, I should probably go. Still have to finish getting ready myself. Are you going to be okay without me?" Sophie continued, not missing a beat.

"Oh, yeah, I'll be fine," I answered quickly, coming out of my reverie. "Thanks for all your help. I'll see you down there."

"Bye, Lily." She gave me a quick hug before walking out the door. "Honestly, you don't have anything to worry about. You look great. James won't be able to keep his eyes off you."

"You mean Charles."

She smiled at me from the doorway. "No. I mean James."

* * *

"What do you mean they're already here and setting up?" I asked Professor McGonagall with what had to be a very confused look on my face. When I had entered the Great Hall with Charles ten minutes earlier, I expected to find everything in a state of disorder, especially considering the band that had been hired. Imagine my surprise to discover that not only were they a good thirty minutes early, but their equipment was being set up and the sound check was already in progress. Where were the volatile rockers I had painstakingly spoken to during the previous weeks?

"I mean just that, Miss Evans," Professor McGonagall replied.

"But that's impossible. They told me they couldn't be here until six at the very earliest!"

"Well apparently they had a change of plans."

"That's good news for us," said Charles, one hand resting lightly on my back. "It's one less thing to worry about."

"No, I understand that it's good news," I explained. "I'm just a little confused. Everything is going correctly and ahead of schedule."

"Do not worry, Miss Evans," said Professor McGonagall with a slight hint of a smile on her face. "I'm sure plenty will go wrong, if you so desire. Now, I suggest you oversee the band's set up before they wreak havoc on our school. Enjoy your night."

I begrudgingly let Charles take my hand and lead me over to the assembled platform that took the usual place of the Head table. I didn't want to deal with the band at all, but clearly I had no choice.

"Oy, Lily," said Tommo, the main singer I had dealt with the most. "Blimey, you look different when you're not just a hanging head out of a fireplace."

"Err, yeah, you too. You're here…early."

"Oh, right. We spoke to a bloke who convinced us the merits of getting here before the dance started. Course, we were three shits to the wind, and I could barely remember his face or his name, but he was very persuasive. You must be him!" he said, looking at Charles.

I stared at him in wonder at my date and pretended not to have heard the mentions of drinking. I was feeling too impressed with Charles. Had he tamed the most unruly group of boys I had ever dealt with, aside from the Marauders?

"Sorry," he told Tommo easily, "it wasn't me."

"Oh, you're not –"

"James," I breathed as the realization had dawned on me. Who better to deal with troublesome males than the king of troublesome males?

Tommo smiled and nodded his head vigorously. "Yeah that's the name. Said he was Head Boy. I just figured this was him."

"You arse!" called blue haired Mack. "You weren't supposed to tell her. He specifically said that he didn't want anyone to know."

"Well it's not my bloody fault the guy waited until 7 in the morning to discuss it with us."

"He said it should be anonymous!"

"I thought he said his name was Any Mouse!"

"What? That's the stupidest thing I ever heard!"

"It's okay," I interrupted before a fight broke out. "I won't tell him I know."

The two smiled and Tommo patted me on the back. "Cheers, love. Now let us get to this, will ya? Not to be rude, because that was part of the stipulations. That I couldn't be rude, I mean. At least not too much."

I felt a bit dazed. All my fury at James for skiving off and lying to me instantly melted away, even if my confusion as to why he had to do so still remained. But surely I could ignore it, since it seemed he more than made up for it. "Of course, we'll just make the rounds."

I was still in a stupor as Charles steered me towards the table with refreshments. "You should be very proud of yourself, Lily. Everything looks wonderful. You really did a spectacular job."

"Thank you," I told him. "But you, of all people, know how much help I had. Having entire group of prefects at my disposal made it much easier. Not to mention a Head Boy who fixes every little thing that I can't."

"Perhaps, but you stayed here last night decorating after everyone left, organized the entertainment, and managed to convince Dumbledore to extend the curfew, and that was just in one day."

I titled my head to look up to him better. "Yes, and interestingly enough, you were there to help me in nearly each instance."

"Yes, well," he stammered briefly before clearing his throat. I could see the faintest trace of pink across his cheeks. "Let's just say I had ulterior motives for that."

I smiled brilliantly in response, but felt a little too giggly to actually say anything. It wasn't every day a handsome blue eyed boy with a fantastic smile admitted to enjoying my company so much, especially not one whose company I was beginning to enjoy so much myself.

"Maybe I shouldn't have said that," Charles said slowly, misunderstanding my silence. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No, no," I rushed to explain. "You didn't at all. I've very…pleased to find you feel that way."

His face didn't seem like it could light up any more. "I'm glad…although, I do want to apologize. I hadn't planned on…I didn't want to put you on the spot."

"You didn't. I promise."

"Good. Now before this gets awkward, would you like to make one more sweep of the place, just to triple check that everything is in place?"

He couldn't have been more wonderful if I designed him myself. "That sounds perfect."

* * *

"Lia, please, for the love of Merlin, walk a little faster," James called from the staircase. Ever since he had picked her up a few minutes ago, looking extremely pretty in her blue robes, she had been determined to take her damn time walking.

Ophelia crossed her arms and glared. "I walk plenty fast, especially considering that I'm in heels. Maybe you should stop sprinting down the halls."

"I am not sprinting. Am I sprinting?"

"You're sprinting, James. Why are you rushing? We're exactly on time."

He ran his hand through his hair and waited for her to catch up. "I wanted to be there a little early. There might be something going wrong and it should get taken care of before the dance starts."

"Are you telling me you actually care about a school function?" The pure shock in her tone mixed with more than a hint of disgust.

"I could care less about the sodding dance, you know that."

She raised a delicate eyebrow in disbelief. "For a person who doesn't care you're awfully anxious to get there."

"I just have to see that a few things are taken care of. Look, I promised Lily I'd-"

"Ah, there it is. Tonight's all about Lily."

"Er, well, yeah it sort of is," he stated as if realizing it for the first time. "Oh bugger. I'm sorry, Lia. I'm a horrible date. I just wasn't there to help her yesterday and she could have really used my help, so I've been running around since the morning trying to smooth over all the issues. But I don't want her to know I'm doing it so I have to get there and check everything out before she realizes I'm doing it. And I'm still talking about her! I'm sorry. From here on in, it's all about you."

She laughed lightly. "No it's not. Believe me, though, I expected as much. I know you too well. I don't need you to dote on me."

"But, still –"

"Still nothing. We're here as friends. And as friends, I give you full permission to ditch me when you need to so you can chase after Lily. I wasn't even planning on going to the dance at all, so really you're just doing me a favor by giving me an excuse to buy a new dress." She walked up to him, and linked her arm with his, "Now, I believe you said something about getting to the dance early?"

James grinned. "You're fantastic, you know that? My life would be absolute crap without you. It was, actually."

"You'd be just fine. You've got Lily now."

"I don't have her. I mean…you know what I mean."

Ophelia stared at his features, one hand on her hip. "Are you…blushing? Good Lord, you're completely red."

"I am not."

"Oh, Jamie," she said as they walked to the doors of the Great Hall, "You're acting completely besotted."

His face was impassive for a moment before the corner of his mouth lifted. "Hm, I reckon I am."

"Well I have to hand it to you," Ophelia said as they walked in. "Your girl did well."

_Indeed she did_, James thought, looking around the Hall. The House tables had vanished in lieu of a space designated for a dance floor. Behind it were many small rounded tables, elevated on what appeared to be a bed of snow, but was in fact very sturdy. There were candles hanging above their heads nestled around beds of mistletoe, a touch that James had practically fought McGonagall for. It was snowing outside, creating a lovely effect where it fell outside the windows behind where the Head table typically stood. In its place was a makeshift stage on which the band was setting up. And standing there in front of it, chatting with the lead singer, and playing with her necklace was Lily.

Oh Merlin, she looked…she looked…_breathtaking_. He was glad Sirius wasn't there to see his face and witness his moment of being such a bloody ponce.

Living with a person enabled you to see their best and worst moments, and James had truly thought by now he had seen both of Lily's, but clearly he was wrong. He had seen her yawning and sleep eyed in the bathroom after just waking up. He had seen her pink cheeked and wind swept standing out on the balcony. He had seen her studying late into the night with her hair held up by pencils. He had seen her impeccably put together in a school uniform during classes. He had seen her in holey old pajamas reading by the fire. He had even seen her earlier that day, getting ready and looking radiant. But he had never, _ever_, seen her like this.

He had no idea what style her dress robes were, or if they were a deep green or black, or what her hairstyle could be called. He only knew that her robes skimmed her body in a way that was far too appealing for their modest design, that whatever color they were they looked fantastic against her creamy skin, that the way her bright hair was gathered at her neck exposed its elegant slope, that the bright smile on her face made her look –

"You're drooling, Jamie," Ophelia whispered at his side. "You should close your mouth before she notices."

He ran a hand through his hair and turned his back on the distracting image. Offering a lopsided smile as his apology he said, "You're right. No more thinking about Lily for the rest of the night."

"I'll believe that when you do."

* * *

Later that night, I stood by the snow mound and looked over the dance, feeling more than a bit proud of myself. The food that had been served for dinner was more delicious than I thought possible, the band had been fantastic and kept everyone dancing, and so far, nothing had gone terribly wrong. Everyone I could see was enjoying themselves, whether they were flinging themselves across the dance floor, chatting at the tables with their friends, or taking a stroll through the heated gardens just outside.

I personally was having the time of my life, and I owed it all to one person: Charles. He was incredibly attentive, a perfect gentlemen, and – I was delighted to discover – a terrific dancer. He whirled me around the dance floor with a practiced and comfortable ease, smiling the entire time. I found it more and more difficult to understand how I had overlooked him in the past because it was becoming increasingly apparent how wonderful he was. By all accounts, he was exactly the kind of person I'd been looking for.

Now, I was quite literally looking for him while I stood in front of the tables at the edge of dance floor. He had gone to get us drinks a while ago, with promises to "be back in a jiffy" and he still hadn't returned. Or maybe it only felt like a while because time seemed to fly when I was with him. I'd been surprised to find that the dance was nearly half over when he suggested we had some refreshments.

The only thing that worried me was that I'd barely seen James all night, save for a few moments where he came into my line of vision. I was disappointed at first since I still wanted to find a way to thank him without letting him know the band had told me about his help. But as the night wore on I thought about him less and less thanks mostly to the very good looking distraction Charles gave me. Where was he?

"Date ditched you, eh?"

I turned around to find James' teasing face looking at my own, pleased that I would have at least some interaction with him tonight. "He's gone to get us drinks."

"What a gentlemen."

"Yes. He is," I said smiling rather wistfully.

James laughed lightly. "So I take it your night is going well."

"It's going wonderfully. What about you? Where's Ophelia?"

He pointed towards the middle of the dance floor. "She threw me over for one of my best mates." Looking in the direction, I suppressed a giggle at the site of her dancing rather enthusiastically with Peter while he shuffled along, his face bright red. "She adores Pete, thinks he's sweet."

"Poor you," I pouted at him.

"Oh," he sighed dramatically. "She has left me weak and brokenhearted and I fear there is little that can pull me back from my black pit of despair."

I didn't think before I spoke next. "What about a dance?"

"Why, Evans," he grinned. "I thought you'd never ask."

Then he tugged on my hand, sending me spinning into his arms. "Watch your toes, love. It's been a while."

Clearly this was a lie. Though he wasn't as graceful or elegant in his motions as Charles, it was obvious he knew what he was doing. His movements were natural and simple as he whirled me around the floor, one hand closed tightly over mine. I felt light and floaty and when James dipped me theatrically in front of Professor Dumbledore I knew I had to be grinning like a fool but I was having too much fun to care.

He gathered me up slowly from the dip and I laughed, bringing my arms around his neck to steady myself I kissed his cheek quickly, overwhelmed by the carefree air.

"Thank you!" I exclaimed.

"For what?"

"Being so good at this! I never would have thought."

"I don't know if I should be offended that you underestimated my dancing abilities or happy that I seem to have made you so extraordinarily giddy."

I looked at him seriously. "You always make me giddy. Honestly, you make me feel like a child sometimes…but in the best way. I guess that's what I'm thanking you for – keeping me level headed and grounded these past few weeks." _And for spending your evening convincing a rowdy band to behave. And for acting like you're concerned about something you couldn't care less about. And for looking so damn good in those dress robes._ "I know I'm not the easiest person to deal with when I get stressed."

He tilted my chin up with his finger. "That's not true. You're positively barmy all of the time. But I wouldn't have you any other way. Otherwise you wouldn't be my Lily."

I cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'm not your Lily."

His voice was so soft when he spoke I thought I imagined him saying what he did.

"You could be."

And then, without saying another word, he cupped my face so tenderly my heart very nearly stopped as for a brief second I thought he might actually kiss me.

"You're beautiful. I don't think I told you that."

My breath escaped in a big _whoosh _as I babbled in response. "Um, you said that I looked incredible earlier, but not –"

He shook his head. "I'm not talking about tonight. I mean all of the time."

I knew that I was most likely the darkest shade of red a person could humanly get before they had to be checked over by a doctor. He was still cupping my face. My arms were still around him. Neither of us moved. I probably should have said thank you. I probably should have smiled. I probably should have done anything other than what I actually did, which was stand there like a mute for the second time the night.

The song changed to a slightly slower rhythm that I only noticed when James spoke. Without letting go of my face he said carefully, "Would you like to go find Charles for this one?"

I was surprised I didn't have to think about it.

"No."

Gradually, we began to move. He circled his arms around my waist and drew me closer. I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, breathing in that scent of his that was becoming all too familiar. The music didn't call for such close proximity but protesting this was the last thing on my mind. In fact, anything logical seemed to be the last on my mind. A _logical_ person would realize that this could hardly look appropriate to anyone who might be watching. A _logical_ person would realize that each of us had come with dates – dates that might not appreciate this moment. A _logical_ person would realize that the pounding of my heat, and the ringing in my head, and that happy, floaty feeling I kept coming back to could not entirely be shoved aside as simple attraction. A _logical_ person would have to admit that there was just too much chemistry for it to ever, really, be that simple. A _logical _person –

A logical person could go sod off as far as I was concerned. In fact, the only thing _I _was concerned about was that dancing with James felt, well, nice. It felt too nice. It felt…perfect.

I shuddered lightly at the thought and James' arms wound tighter around me. "Cold?" he asked.

The concern in his voice made we want to melt. "No." _Not at all_, I thought, _not when your hands are doing such delicious things… _His palm flattened over the small of my back and I couldn't help but to arch against him in the tiniest bit. _No, not cold. Hot. Blazing hot. _

He stepped away from me with a groan. "I'm sorry," he said, running a hand through his hair before I had a chance to speak. "You just look so…amazing. It's really hard not to touch you."

The embarrassment I expected to feel at his admission was no where to be found, replaced only by the acute and powerful knowledge that James Potter could hardly keep his hands off me. What's that saying about power corrupting? I'm ashamed to say I was no exception; it went straight to my head. I think I fancied myself to be some sort of seductress in those few minutes.

I took a step closer to him, and even months later, I could never figure out what possessed me to say what I did, except that this new found power mixed with the fact that it was the first thought that came to mind and made me temporarily insane. Besides, I could hardly be judged for my actions; James had an uncanny ability to make me say and do the most ludicrous of things…

So I placed my hands on his shoulders, knowing my body had to be less than a breath away from his own, stood on the tips of my toes, prayed that I wouldn't wobble on my heels and whispered:

"What if I want you to touch me?"

Unfortunately it was only as I said the words that I realized what a mistake it was, hindsight being 20/20 and all. The embarrassment I had so narrowly avoided was back full force as my body remained in a state of semi frozen shock.

James let out a shaky breath. "Merlin, Lily, you sure know how to surprise a bloke."

I didn't know how to respond. I didn't know what to say to explain myself or to even begin to comprehend what had just happened. I only knew I could never _ever_ look at James in the face again. I was spared from having to answer though, luckily (or unluckily, depending on how you looked at it), because Charles had come back with the drinks.

"Sorry it took so long. There was a fantastically long wait."

"I wouldn't drink that if I were you," James said quickly, before I could take the cup Charles offered. "Sirius spiked it."

Charles raised his eyebrows in noticeable disapproval. "And you let him?"

"Have you ever tried to defy Sirius Black? Besides, it's nothing too bad, just some homebrewed truth serum." Though he was answering Charles his eyes never left my face, which made it that much more difficult to look anywhere else. "He didn't put too much in though."

"Still," Charles continued, unaware of the tension, "it could be dangerous."

"I know. I think Lily might have had some."

James continued to look at me while I attempted to melt into the floor. It was clear what he was insinuating, but there was no way he would tell my date about my foolish actions, would he?

Charles seemed instantly concerned. "Why, has she said something she shouldn't?"

They both looked at me expectantly. Charles expression was full of genuine concern, James' of general amusement. I looked between them quickly, heart pounding, unsure how to answer. _Did _I say something I shouldn't?

"No," I said finally.

Charles, rightfully, looked confused. "Then what –"

"Come on," I said, grabbing his arm, eager to end the conversation. "I love this song."

In truth, I had no idea what was playing, but I was desperate to escape from what could only be described as the most awkward few minutes of my life.

"Oh, Lily?" James called from behind us.

I turned around slowly, dreading whatever he might say. I was surprised to see disappointment flash across his features briefly before a smile broke across. "Thanks for the dance."

I gulped. "Anytime."

I just stared anxiously at his retreating back not even caring now if Charles noticed, but it didn't matter. He already had his hand wrapped around my waist and was gently pulling me away towards the other end of the dance floor, whispering something in my ear.

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked, breaking out of my daze.

He was all smiles, his handsome features soft and devastatingly perfect. "I said that you look incredible."

"Thank you," I told him, wishing I was anywhere but here.

He was gorgeous. Brilliant. Perfect. He was standing in front of me at a school dance wearing the most amazing dress robes, his hair as polished as the rest of him, falling ever so gently into his eyes. It was a scene right out of the fairytales I dreamed about, even if half the students were under the influence of a Sirius Black prank, myself included.

It was pathetic, really, but everyone looked like they were having so much fun and they kept drinking that stupid punch and surely it wouldn't be terrible if I had just a _tiny_ bit before getting rid of it? Because wouldn't it be lovely to just speak my mind and not care, if only for a few hours? And Charles was perfect and attentive, even if he didn't notice my conspicuous consumption before helping me to replace the punch and this night could get perfect, couldn't it?

Yet as he twirled me later across that beautiful dance floor and his eyes twinkled just right and my dress spun and people laughed and I wanted so very badly to feel anything other than what I was feeling, I couldn't help but sneak a look in James' direction, hoping for some reason he'd be looking after us. But he wasn't. He was walking in the opposite direction, a cup in one hand…Ophelia in the other.

* * *

_I know this is a bit shorter than my other chapters have been as of late. In fact, this chapter and the next were originally one chapter since they both involve the dance. I just felt like it was a little too long when it came time to upload. Rest assured though, if this feels a little incomplete, it is, and the new chapter will be out shortly. That I can promise._

_I really appreciate all your kind words, reviews, and emails between chapters. They fuel me to keep going even when I feel like a silly wannabe adult that should really have outgrown this obsession of hers. Then again, I guess you can never outgrow the things you can love, can you?_

_E._


	8. Truth Potions and Control Issues

_So all that junk about growing up from my last author's note? Total joke. In the last few weeks I've really regressed...all the way back to my 13 year old fangirly tendencies. And you know what? I think that's okay. Maybe that's the cool part about growing up. You can still choose to be a kid sometimes. With graduation approaching at the end of this school year, I keep thinking about who I was when I first started writing this, years and years ago. Time has flown by, and I barely recognize that little girl. But it's nice to know that through it all, HP has been there, this story has been there, and that you guys have been there. And it's pretty cool that in just seven ridiculously fast months that little girl who has sort of/maybe/but not quite grown up will have a Bachelors degree. Insanity. _

_I know we're all aware of CRAZY AMAZING thing happening next week. I know I've have little else beside Harry Potter on the brain for the last week so I figured now was the perfect time to upload the next chapter. I hope you enjoy. I took a few liberties with this one, but it was just so much fun I couldn't help myself. _

_"Everything is gonna change, everything is gonna change...for the good." - Paint & Picture, Jonezetta (Ironically, that song actually just starting playing on my itunes as I typed the Author's Note)  
_

* * *

**Chapter 8: Truth Potions and Control Issues  
**

_ "Oh, Lily?" James called. "Thanks for the dance."_

_ She gulped. "Anytime."_

James watched the pair walk away from him, eyes narrowed on the way Charles casually slipped his hand around Lily's waist as they went to put the drink on the table. Charles had said something to her, but it seemed she was too distracted to notice. She kept playing with her necklace nervously and looking around the room. _She's so cute when she's embarrassed_, he thought to himself.

She turned to Charles suddenly, apparently remembering his presence, and smiled when he told her something. It didn't quite meet her eyes though, James was happy to notice, though Charles clearly didn't know the difference.

Disposing of his own drink, James tore his eyes away and barely restrained a chuckle. It wasn't that he wanted Lily to have a bad time, but he couldn't help enjoying the fact that she obviously had more fun with him. He set off to find Ophelia, feeling he had neglected his date long enough. He barely made it three feet away, however, before he was intercepted by a hand grabbing at his forearm.

"James!" Sophie squealed, dragging a boy behind her. "I have been looking for you _everywhere_!"

He recognized her date as Jacob McLaughlin, a fellow seventh year on the Ravenclaw quidditch team who always offered a relatively decent competition.

James gave the other boy an odd look which he responded to with a sheepish smile. "She's a little enthusiastic."

"I'll say."

"Stop talking about me as if I'm not here," she interrupted. "Jacob? Be a dear and get us some drinks?"

She held out her glass to him and James chuckled. "Err, Sophie, how many of those have you had?"

She shrugged. "A few. They're quite tasty."

"I thought as much. So what is it that you wanted to talk to me about?"

Shooting him an incredulous look she said, "I don't want to say in front of Jacob."

Jacob, for his part, didn't seem to be offended but instead laughed heartily and kissed her on the forehead. "My Sophie. What a character. I'll see you on the quidditch pitch, James."

She rolled her eyes when he left. "Anyway. I want to know what's going on with you and Lily. And skip the part where you pretend like you have no idea what I'm talking about and go straight to part where you spill your guts."

He appraised her quickly before deciding what to say. "I have absolutely no idea," he answered honestly.

"I am so _tired_ of hearing that," she sighed. "I saw you two dancing. I've seen you two talking. I've seen you looking at her at meals when you think no one else notices. It _always_ looks the same, like you're two seconds away from grabbing each other and going at it."

"I really don't think you should have any more of that punch."

"Never mind the punch. But James, do you know how frustrating this is? Talking to her and then talking to you and never getting a straight answer? Ugh!"

His ears perked up. "What do you mean by that? What has she said to you?" Perhaps questioning a girl who had just been drinking copious amounts of truth potion was a bit morally unjust but he hadn't sought her out, had he? Sophie had come to him, and it wasn't as though Sirius had put _too_ much in the punch…

"It doesn't matter. Actually, it does, but I don't want to tell you. I will say, however, that sitting around and hoping one of you two ninnies wakes up is getting increasingly boring. You had better make a move. And," her voice dropped down to a whisper and she beckoned him to lean in closer, "and it had better be a good one."

James grinned. "Don't worry. It will be."

"Fanbloodytastic!" She looked instantly cheered. "I'm going to find my date now. I quite fancy a snog. Have a good night!"

He was still laughing to himself when he reached the table where his friends were sitting. What a ragtag crew this group made. Ophelia was leaning across the wall of "snow" that served as a partition between the tables and the dance floor. She said nothing when he approached them and put his arm across her shoulders, but raised an eyebrow at him, putting her own arm around his hips. Remus had pulled his chair right next to his date, Iris Eridani, and was playing with her hair. Peter was next to them, along with his own date, Olive Cadagon, who looked very uncomfortable and spent most of the time staring at her fingernails. Sirius was sitting with his date, Aurelia, plopped across his lap. She had one arm slung across his neck and he had one at her waist as the other wagged a finger at Peter.

"Wormtail, you weren't actually supposed to drink that one! That defeats the purpose entirely."

"Aw, lay off, Padfoot," Remus interjected. "It doesn't really matter because your potions work is such rubbish. It probably doesn't even work right."

"I'll give you rubbish!"

"Now children," placated Ophelia, "if you're going to fight I have to suggest you take off robes while you do so. At least this way it can be entertaining for us all."

The twins laughed hysterically while Olive giggled. "Better watch your girl, Prongs," Sirius said grinning. "Ignore her anymore, and she may just run off on you."

"Nah, she's mad about me. She'd never walk off." He winked at her and she shoved him off, laughing.

"Keep talking and I'll walk off right now."

James barely heard her response; he had just spotted Charles twirling Lily around the floor, the smarmy git. Did he really have to put his hands all over her?

"Speaking of walking…do you want to take a stroll around the garden, Jamie?"

He looked back to his friends only to see the three boys snickering at him, the girls giving him confused looks, and Ophelia staring at him all too knowingly. He was grateful that she didn't give him away and just nodded. "Sounds like a good idea."

He grabbed her hand as they walked through the doors that led to the heated garden and stopped her before she walked too far. "You know they think we're going out here to snog, right?"

"You mean we're not?" she asked innocently before smirking. "Relax, I plan on keeping my hands – and lips – to myself."

"Too bad."

She rolled her eyes and tugged on his hand, leading him to one of the most secluded spots under the rosebushes. Perching on a low bench, she looked up at him expectantly and waited for him to speak. When he didn't say anything she spoke up.

"Jamie, are you trying to make me jealous?" Ophelia peeked up at him through wide eyes and smiled demurely from her seat.

"Always," he replied instantaneously. "Why do you ask?"

"Well I couldn't help but accidentally watch you like a hawk all night, and I also couldn't help but accidentally notice that you were doing the same with a certain Head Girl."

He shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. "So?"

"Well, a guy only pays so much attention to one girl when he's with another for two reasons: either he's trying to make the girl he's with jealous, or he's just plain old interested in the other girl. So, have you changed everything I've known about you and suddenly become interested in playing games to make me a jealous?"

It was clear what she was getting at and James resisted a smile as he answered. "No."

Ophelia's eyes widened. "You really do fancy her, don't you?"

He joined her in perching on the bench. "I really think I do, yeah."

"Well isn't that just adorable," she cooed.

"Adorable?"

"Yes. James Potter and the Head Girl? It's so…precious."

"Why do you say it that way? I _am_ Head Boy, you know. It's not that strange."

"Yes, but Lily's…well, she's a real Head Girl. You don't care about any of this stuff."

"No, but she does-"

"And you care about her," Ophelia finished. "That's what makes it so cute."

"Why do I get that feeling that you're mocking me?"

"I'm sorry, I'm really not trying to. It's just not every day that James Potter falls for the unattainable Head Girl -"

"Unattainable?" he interrupted. "My dear Lia, I assure you, that this is not one sided."

"Told you that has she?"

"Well-"

"Then you don't know for a fact, do you?"

He grinned wolfishly. "I know she wants me to touch her."

Ophelia's eyebrows rose past her hairline. "Been reading her diary, Jamie?" she said with a laugh.

"No, of course not. She told me," he said almost proudly.

"Why on Earth would she say that? Oh no, has she gotten into the spiked punch?"

"No. She's gotten into James Potter."

She rolled her eyes.

"Just trust me, Lia. I know she's got something for me. She's not in love or anything, but there's _something_."

She waited a while before responding, choosing her words carefully. "Be smart about this, Jamie. Lily's different. She's much more cautious, much more sensible. She doesn't jump into things the way you do. She's not like –"

"Not like you? I know, Lia."

She glared at him and stood up. "No, James. She's not like _you_. I know how you work and you can't just rush in on some grand romantic whim without thinking about it. You can't get carried away on emotions alone."

He stood as well, instantly on alert. "Just what are you talking about here, _Ophelia_? Lily and me? Or you and me?"

"You and…me and….What?" she sputtered before huffing out a breath and storming down the garden. She seemed to change her mind halfway through and came barreling back, her face a mess of anger and frustration.

"You know what your problem is?" she began. "You feel so needlessly guilty about what happened with us that you think every word I say is some veiled reference to our relationship, like every conversation is some metaphor for the past. Well it's not! I'm trying to help you! I'm only trying to prevent you from getting hurt again, not berating you for anything. All I am saying is that with Lily, you will have to approach things differently, and if you would stop being such an ass for a minute, you'd admit I was right.

"I have been patient with you all night. You showed up and basically off the bat rambled about helping Lily, and that was fine. We got to the dance and you went mad over her, and that was fine. You left me with your friends to go find her, and even _that _was fine. But now you're insulting me and there's no reason for it. So," she growled, "I am going back in there to enjoy what is left of the dance. Find me when you're ready to apologize."

With that she stomped off, startling a couple that was otherwise occupied a few bushes near by. James cursed and kicked the bench in anger - a stupid move because now his foot hurt on top of everything else.

Ophelia was right. Of course she was right; she was always right. He was being a complete git and it _was_ getting ridiculous. Lia was a terrific friend and it wasn't right to take out his frustrations on her. Just because she was able to tap into him in a way that few others could didn't make it okay. This was how things went south the first time, and he'd be damned if he let that happen again.

Lily had her great night, had her great date, had her _Charles_. She was completely taken care of and he needed to stop worrying about her. Now, all he had to do was make it up to Ophelia.

* * *

"Thank you for a wonderful right," I told Charles as we reached the statue of Sally the Sober later that evening…or was it technically morning by now? I had no idea. I lost any knowledge of time hours ago. Not too long after James left I'd made sure to replace the punch so as to prevent any regrettable accidents. Unfortunately, I remembered to do this only after consuming a few too many cups of it myself though luckily I managed not to embarrass myself in front of Charles or say anything I shouldn't. Now the dance was over, everyone had made it back to their common rooms, and Charles and I were quite possibly the only two people awake in the whole school.

"I assure you, the pleasure was all mine."

"You didn't have to walk me back though. I don't want you going back to your common room all alone."

He smiled the dashing grin I was slowly becoming accustomed to. "I won't be alone. I'll have you in my thoughts."

"You're too sweet."

"I really did have a great time, Lily," he said in a low voice, taking a step closer and grabbing my hand. He raised it to his mouth and gently kissed it. He held it up between us as he spoke. "Good night. I hope you have pleasant dreams. I know I will."

"Good night," I replied, head swimming.

He stepped away and dropped my hand, waiting until I safely stepped around the statue and into my room before he walked away. I soared up the stairs in a daze with a dreamy smile plastered on my face. I paused at the mirror above my dresser and appraised my appearance. My hair was slowly falling out of its elegant twist, the knot hanging limply at my neck. My dress robes were more than a bit wrinkly after the hours of moving. My skin was flushed to a pale red that clashed horribly with my hair. But I didn't care.

I let out a hysterical giggle. If I had any voice at all I would have been singing. I practically floated into the bathroom where I proceeded to rinse out all traces of the Sleekeazy's in my hair. The shower did nothing to soothe my remaining excitement as I hoped it would and so, hours later, I found myself lying on my bed, absentmindedly twirling a piece of hair. I tried reading, but for once, nothing kept my interest. I couldn't even be productive by doing schoolwork either since finals were over. I'd already packed everything I would need to take with me while on holiday. So really, there was nothing to do.

At some point around 2 am I decided to set a charm on the ceiling similar to (but nowhere near as intricate as) the one in the Great Hall. If I was too jittery and excited to sleep at least I'd have something pretty to look at. I turned to look at my clock. "Way too late to still be awake" it said.

I even considered waking up James, but he wasn't back yet. I tried not to let it bother me that wherever he was, whatever he was doing, he didn't invite me. But maybe he wasn't with his friends, maybe he was with Ophelia. Maybe they were – I shook my head at the thought. No way was I going to think about James and Ophelia like…_that_.

Of course, the world was cruel and the more you didn't want to think about something, the more you did. I could stop thinking of him with Ophelia...James's hand on her back, his lips on her neck, his fingers threading through her long red hair… Wait, no, Ophelia had blond hair, not red. _Ophelia_ was with James right now probably doing whatever they were doing and it was fine and I couldn't care less, really, because I'd had a fantastic time with Charles and that should have been enough. But it wasn't. Ever since that stupid dance I couldn't focus fully on anything else. All I could think about were James' arms and his smile and his completely straightforward words. He had told me I was beautiful. He told me he couldn't keep his hands off me. He had called me _his_ Lily. But how could I possibly be his anything if he was off God knows where doing I-couldn't-stop-imagining what?

"UGH!" I groaned aloud. This was hopeless. I needed to sleep and get this out of my system. It was past 2 in the morning. So where the hell was James?

* * *

James was currently on his third Firewhisky, laughing as he held it above his head in a toast. "To Lia!" he called as the rest of the occupants cheered. "To Lia, who is always putting up with my crap and looks absolutely smashing in blue."

He downed his drink and slung his arm around Ophelia's shoulders. "Tell me I'm forgiven now."

She looked up at him seriously. "Jamie, you snuck into the Three Broomsticks and paid for a round of drinks for everyone. You recited a sonnet about "fair, forgiving Ophelia" which by the way, did _not_ rhyme, and you did the can-can dance with Remus. You've publicly humiliated yourself for the last two and a half hours. Of course I've forgiven you. I wasn't even mad enough to warrant it."

"Don't forget that I helped Sirius come up with the Ophelia Bailey Drinking Game. Which reminds me - you spoke so everyone should take a SHOT!"

The crowd cheered again and Ophelia staggered into him as Peter wobbled into her, his drink sloshing slightly.

"Sorry!" he apologized quickly. "Blimey, I've never seen the Three Broomsticks so crowded."

"And a good thing it is," said James. "Otherwise Rosmerta might notice the number of underage students here."

"As if I haven't already charmed the pants off her," said Sirius, joining the group with Remus and a fresh round of drinks.

"And he means that quite literally," Remus said wryly.

Sirius smacked him on the back of his head. "Oy, I have a date here somewhere who doesn't need to know these things. Speaking of which – let's go find the twins, eh?"

"I should find Olive, too," said Peter. "She went off to the loo a while ago."

James smirked once they were out of earshot. "You know they just want to go find dark corners to snog in, don't you? The tossers."

She looked at him closely. "Jamie, are you…jealous?"

"Jealous? Why would I be jealous?"

"Because you want to snog in a dark corner too. Only the person you want to do that with isn't here."

"That's ridiculous."

She didn't let up her intense stare. "Is it? Why didn't you invite Lily?"

"Because this isn't about her. And I really didn't want to see her with stupid bloody Charles anymore than I have to."

"Merlin, I've literally never seen you this jealous."

"I'm not jealous. Really. I don't want to see them together because it bothers me how right she thinks he is for her. But Lily and I…we – I'm sorry, I shouldn't be talking about this."

Ophelia regarded him carefully. Too carefully. He suddenly realized what she was doing. "What the - Lia, are you bloody reading me?"

"Sorry, Jamie." She said, her face automatically relaxing. "I was curious and my guard is always down more when I drink. I'm blocking you now, I swear."

"That's an abuse of power."

She smirked. "What are you going to do? Tell on me?"

"Very funny," he said, taking a gulp of Firewhisky. "So…what's the diagnosis?"

"You want me to tell you what I felt off you?"

"Yes."

Her eyes twinkled as she touched his arm. "Now _that_ would be an abuse of power. Besides, you're drunk. It's almost too muddled to tell. But what's with all the sugar cravings?"

James furrowed his brows in confusion. "Sugar craving? What are you talking about?"

"I don't know…I kept getting these waves of thoughts…about Honeydukes. What's so important at Honeydukes?"

"Sugar quills," he answered with a smile. "I always get some for Lily when I'm in Hogsmeade."

"So let's go get her some."

"I'm confused. I thought you said this was a bad idea."

She shook her head. "No, I said rushing into it was a bad idea. I said jumping head first was a bad idea. You have to be cautious; you don't want to scare her off. You should go for it, but you should introduce us first."

"Aw, do you need to make sure she's good enough for me?"

Ophelia laughed before dragging him into the dancing crowd. "No, I need to make sure that she is even a tiny bit as crazy about you as you are about her. Before this all blows up in your face."

* * *

I was finally close to drifting off when I heard a small clatter in the hall outside my room.

"James?" I questioned, sitting up.

He poked his head into my room. "Lily? Why are you still awake?"

"I couldn't sleep. Too much excitement tonight, I guess. You're just getting in? Did you knock something over?"

"No, something knocked into me. And yeah, I'm just getting in. We went to the Three Broomsticks after the dance. Nice jammies." He walked in, shaking some snow out of his hair, which was as messy as I'd ever seen it. The cold air outside left a pink twinge to his cheeks that I was startled to discover I thought was adorable. But there were more pressing matters to discuss, namely, why in the hell did his walk seem more like a stumble as he came into the room?

I stared at him in frustration and disappointment. "James, are you…_drunk_?"

His eyes widened almost comically. "No. _No. _Definitely not. Not at all. Why would you even think that? Okay, maybe a tiny bit."

"You can't be serious. Do you know how dangerous, not to mention stupid, it is to walk back onto the grounds at this hour in the first place? And to be intoxicated on top of that? If anyone saw you –"

"Relax, love, no one saw us. And I'm really okay. Promise. I'm only very slightly tipsy. Barely even that. Don't be cross with me; you can't go to the Three Broomsticks without having a bit of something."

"But…how did you manage that? It's not even a Hogsmeade weekend."

"I have my ways."

"It's not like you can just walk off the grounds," I continued, "and even if you could, it's not like you can just waltz back through the gates."

"Maybe we all apparated," James said grinning.

I shook my head. "No, you can't apparate or dissapparate on Hogwarts grounds." I sat back for a minute, thinking. "You know what? I don't want to know because I'm sure it's breaking countless rules that as Head Boy you should be aware of."

"Oh Lily, what good is knowing the rules if you can't break them every now and then?" He stepped closer and leaned in. "Besides, you can't be mad. I brought you something." James brought the hand from behind his back and produced yet another sugar quill. He looked all too pleased with himself.

I smiled broadly in response. "You're going to give me cavities, you know."

He stopped himself from putting the candy on my nightstand and laughed. "Should I keep it for myself then?"

I tried to grab it just as he moved it out of my reach and my fingers ended up only brushing his hand. I'm not sure what to name how I felt but all I knew was that I enjoyed it when James responded by wrapping his fingers around mine. It was stupid to feel tingly, wasn't it? No one actually ever felt tingly from so small a touch, did they? I squeezed his hand and a slight flush set across my body when he smiled at me warmly, eyes somewhat darkening.

What was I doing? How long could I play this off as being very friendly or just being tired or getting caught up in a moment? Why were the moments always happening? Why was I breaking out in goose bumps while he stepped even closer still, why was I leaning towards him? Why did I practically have to force my hands to stay at my sides?

"Lily, I…"

His free hand swept my hair back behind my ear. This was too familiar, only this time I wasn't going to be stupid. I wasn't going to blurt out something about Dumbledore. I wasn't going to run away. I wasn't going to stop him at all. His eyes were roving across my face and though I didn't know what he was looking for, I wanted to reassure him anyway.

Slowly, I rose to my knees on the bed so that my face was level with his. Dragging my hands from his, I ran them up his arms and rested them on his shoulders. He seemed to have stopped breathing. That was a good sign, wasn't it?

"It's okay," I whispered, sliding one hand behind his neck. Why was he the one hesitating?

"I think…we should…"

"James, I want you to."

He let out a strangled breath and dropped his head to my shoulder. "Lily, we _can't_," he whispered against my neck before placing a kiss there. But his arms were around my waist, keeping me flush against him; his lips were moving against my skin. Now I was the one who couldn't breathe. I shivered every time his lips made contact with my skin. I titled my head to give him better access and wished I'd had the foresight to wear a thin tank top or pretty pajamas and not the loose t-shirt I was currently wearing.

James seemed to find it as irritating as I did as his mouth moved across the neckline, attempting to pull it lower. He sucked slightly on my skin and part of me was afraid he'd leave a mark, while the other part hoped he would. Heat surged through my body at the thought of there being a spot where his mouth had been, a reminder in the morning of what he had been doing the night before. His hand slipped under the shirt and ran up my back, curving my upper body into his while his mouth slipped as low as it possibly could within the confines of my shirt. I groaned part in pleasure, part in frustration. I hated that damn shirt right now.

"Take it off," I breathed out. "Please, just…"

"What?" James asked, startled, breaking away to look at me. He was breathing hard as I was, I was delighted to note, and his shocked eyes were black. That was funny; weren't his eyes really brown? That must mean…I giggled at the thought. He wanted me. _James Potter wanted me. _Why was I ever worried before? This was amazing.

I brought the hands that had slipped away from me back to the hemline of what was now my most hated possession. "Take it off," I repeated.

His hands were shaking. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but no, Lily. I can't do that."

I didn't bother to hide the hurt in my voice. "Why not?"

"Shit. _Shit. _Lily, I'm still a little drunk and you definitely had more of that punch than I thought and you're saying things you normally wouldn't and we _can't _–"

"But you want me. Don't you?"

He placed a rough kiss to my forehead before leaning his own against it. "Yes, _yes_, of course I do."

"So that's all that matters, isn't it?" I asked, attempting to bring my lips to his.

He placed his hands gently on my face and looked at me with such raw _hunger_ I nearly collapsed. But instead of dragging me to him like I wanted he carefully pushed me down so I was sitting back on my haunches, gazing up at him with a confused expression on my face. "Lily, you are so…" He let out a heavy breath before continuing. "I might regret walking away from you in the morning. Hell, I'm already kicking myself for not just…kissing the _hell_ out of you. But it's nothing compared to how much you might regret this tomorrow. And that I can't handle."

I shook my head and grabbed his hand. "You don't know that I'd regret it."

"True. But I don't know that you wouldn't. And I'm not prepared to take that kind of gamble with you. Merlin, why did you have so much of that damn punch?"

"I was thirsty."

He laughed. "I thought once I told you what Sirius put in it you would replace it."

"I did. I just…had some of it myself before I remembered to."

"How could you possibly forget that?"

I bit my lip and peered up at him from under my lashes. I couldn't remember the last time I had been so bold. In fact, I could never remember being so bold. "I was thinking about you…about dancing with you. And when I think about you, I sometimes forget about everything else."

His expression was warm, soft. His words came out in a hurried rush. "I was thinking about you too. The second you walked away, I wanted to drag you back."

"I wish you would have. Why didn't you?"

"You were with Charles. I thought you'd find it rude if I interrupted."

"You know, I wasn't even thinking about going with him until he asked me so nicely. I actually wanted to go with you. I thought we would have fun."

James closed his eyes and stepped away from me yet again, running a hand through his hair. He picked up the sugar quill from where it had fallen on the floor before placing it on my nightstand. "I wish you would stop saying all of this."

"Why? Don't you believe in speaking your mind?"

"Yes, and under any other circumstance I would love this. But it feels wrong. You wouldn't be saying this normally and I feel like I'm taking advantage or something. I don't want you to hate me when this wears off."

"I could never hate you."

"I…I should probably let you go to bed. It's been a long day; I'm sure you're tired."

"No," I said instantly. "Stay. I like talking to you. Things have been so busy lately I feel like we haven't had the chance. I miss it."

He smiled and took off his glasses. "I miss it too. But if I stay you'll have to budge up on that bed. I'm knackered. I need to lie down."

I moved over as he climbed in next to me, lying down while I sat up, knees brought up into my chest, hopefully muffling the sound of my pounding heart. He squinted up at the ceiling.

"Is it just my bad eyesight or is that the sky where your ceiling should be?"

"I charmed it. I was getting bored and couldn't fall asleep and wanted something pretty to look at."

"It's amazing. Seriously, this is really complicated charm work. I'm impressed."

"You sound surprised," I scoffed.

"No, I mean, I always knew you were brilliant. But this is…really incredible."

"I'm glad you like it."

"I really do. Do you know what this looks like?"

Was he serious? "The sky? It's sort of supposed to."

He swatted at my arm playfully. "Well obviously. It's just so _close_…" He pulled on my arm slightly, dragging me down. "Come here, you have to see it from this angle." I settled down against him, the side of his leg touching mine, my head level to his against the pillow. "It's like...the sky is right _there_, you know? This is exactly what it looks like when I fly. When I tilt my head up, I swear this is exactly what it feels like."

I was looking at him as he talked, completely mesmerized. I'd never really studied his face before, especially not this close, but I decided very quickly that I liked it. The line of his jaw, the curve of his nose, the shape of his lips…it was all so appealing. It distracted me and I almost missed what he was saying. "I wouldn't know. I don't really fly."

"I'll have to take you sometime." His eyes never left the ceiling, roving across the night sky.

My eyes never left his. His eyes…they were so intoxicating. Dizzying. Had they always been that way? "What?" he whispered when he found me staring at him.

I was too transfixed by his eyes, unencumbered by glasses, to be embarrassed at being caught. "Your eyes…they're just so…_pretty_. I never really noticed before."

"_My_ eyes are pretty?"

I nodded, unable to tear away.

James chuckled. "Thanks, love. Yours aren't so bad either."

"Oh you're fantastic with compliments. Is this how you reel in all the girls?"

He turned his head to face me and rolled his eyes. "Come on. You know how gorgeous I think you are."

"Actually I don't."

"You're kidding right? Did you forget about everything I told you? Or have you not noticed the way I've been looking at you? Merlin, the second I saw you in the Great Hall…"

"Well that doesn't really count does it?" I interrupted. "It's all well and good to look at me like that when I'm done up and fancy."

James tucked his finger under my chin, a gesture of his I was already beginning to love. "Lily," he started quietly. "I always look at you like that. I looked at you like that when we tried to sneak into the kitchens, I looked at you like that the first time I saw you wander into the bathroom in the morning, I looked at you like that when I caught you reading those books, I looked at you like that every time you came down for breakfast in the Great Hall, and I'm looking at you like that right now."

My breath caught in my throat and my reply came out more like a croak than a human voice. "I really want you to kiss me right now."

He leaned in but instead of pressing his lips to mine like he knew I wanted he placed them at the top of my head. "I want to; you have no idea how much. But when you haven't had any truth potion, tell me to do it and I promise I'll kiss you so much you'll be begging me to stop."

I embarrassingly let out a bit of a whimper. "James, are you…are you still drunk at all?"

I felt him shake his head on top of my mine. "No. I don't need any help to say this to you." His arms went around me and held me to his body as his hands ran up and down my back. I sighed and leaned my head over his chest, delighted to find that his heart was beating just as quickly as mine was. But he wasn't done talking. "I almost wish you would tell me to leave. It's really hard to do the right thing at this second."

"I don't want you to leave."

"I won't. But you have to try not to be so inviting, okay?"

I giggled into his chest. I was inviting. James wanted me so much he had to make a conscious effort to control himself. Brilliant. "I'm not usually like this, you know."

He laughed deeply. "Oh believe me, I know. And I am still thoroughly enjoying this, even if it's driving me crazy."

"It's not very gentlemanly of you to enjoy this," I teased.

"I never said I was a gentleman. I'll leave that bit to Charles, who, by the way, is currently asleep and alone, while I get to be with his girl."

"I'm not his girl."

"Well thank Merlin for that."

I thought for a second before I asked, but went ahead anyway. "Would it stop you if I was?"

"Honestly? I don't think so. You're the kind of girl a bloke should fight for, you know?"

I didn't have any response to this apart from the gigantic smile spreading across my face that I knew he couldn't see. We laid in silence for a while, staring up at the stars and clouds spread along my ceiling.

"James, can I ask you something?" I was afraid to break the moment but I had to know.

"Sure, love."

"It's just…this has been bothering me for a little while…" I took a deep breath before continuing. "Why did you lie about having detention with McGonagall?" I blurted out.

He turned his head, looking confused. "What?"

"Before the dance," I explained. "When we had to reset the charms on the Great Hall and you said you couldn't help because you had a detention. You lied. Why?"

"What makes you think I lied?"

"I _know_ you lied because McGonagall came downstairs and had no idea what I was talking about when I mentioned it. So I just want to know why. Because in the beginning of the year, you promised me that you weren't going to bail on me, and that's kind of what you did."

"I know, Lil," he said, turning away to stare at the ceiling again. "I'm sorry, honestly."

"I just don't know why you had to lie about it."

He let out a sigh and ran a hand through his hair. "I felt bad running out on you, but this whole Head Boy thing…it's really not for me. I mean, I'm proud to have it and all, but I really don't care about things like school dances and decorations."

"But," I said quietly, looking at my feet, feeling incredibly stupid. I _loved _that stuff. "You went to talk to the band for me."

"How did you know about that too?"

I shrugged. "You're not the only with secrets. I have my ways, too. But you're avoiding the subject. If you don't care about any of this, why would you do it?"

James gave me a small smile. "I may not care about that stuff, but I care about you."

"So is that what you were doing, when you lied about detention? Talking to the band?"

"Err…no. I spoke to them that morning before the dance, when I left you that note." He chuckled. "Actually, I woke them up, introduced them to their hangovers. They weren't exactly thrilled."

"So then what were you doing?"

His expression looked almost pained for a minute. "I was…just…helping someone out."

I bit my lip and tried to shut myself up before I said something stupid but it didn't help. "Were you with Ophelia?"

"What?" he looked genuinely confused. "No. Why would you think…" he trailed off and looked at me closely. "We're not together or anything like that. I thought Sirius told you."

"Oh, so you already know about that."

"Of course I know."

I turned on my side as I mumbled. "Are you mad?"

"No. Well, I was a bit a first. It wasn't his place to tell you anything –"

"I know," I rushed out, "I'm sorry. He really didn't say anything too much, I swear. I was just really confused, and wanted to know what was going on."

"I know. And anyway, I wasn't mad at you. I'm actually a bit glad Sirius told you. I didn't like feeling like I was keeping something from you."

I smiled. "So why are doing that now? Why don't you tell me?"

The pained look was back on his face. "I can't, Lily. Don't you think I would if I could?"

"You've said that to me before – that time you tried to sneak with me to the kitchens. Was that the same thing you couldn't tell me about?"

"Your memory is uncanny."

"It helps me when people lie to me. Don't avoid the question."

"Yes…the two are related." He grabbed my hand. "Lily, I swear I would tell you if I could."

I looked down at his hand briefly before bringing my eyes to his. "Don't try to distract me by touching me."

He grinned. "Does my touch distract you?"

"Yes. Stop avoiding the subject. How many rules is it breaking?"

"Countless."

I barely suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. "I'm serious."

"So am I. I don't know how many rules, but I'm sure it's too many."

I nodded. "And can I assume it's dangerous?"

"Yes."

I breathed in quickly. Of course it was dangerous. James Potter couldn't be hiding a secret girlfriend, because that would be safe. "And why are you doing it?"

"To help a friend, and I'm not telling you who so don't even ask."

"Is it worth it?" I asked. "I mean, if you get caught, will it be worth it to help this friend?"

"Yes," he said fiercely, immediately. "It is worth it."

"Okay." I paused again before asking what I really wanted to know. "Do you think you could ever tell me?"

"I don't know. Maybe. I'd like to."

"How do you think I'll react?"

He studied my face for a moment as if the answer was written there. "I think you'll be worried. Maybe you'll be a little scared, but not too much. I think you're tough enough to handle it. And I think, despite your reservations, a part of you is going to be really impressed."

"Well I can't wait to hear it then."

"Are you done with your twenty questions yet?"

I grinned. "No, just one more. Did you have fun tonight?"

"Yes. But I'm enjoying myself now much more than I did tonight," he answered instead.

"Me too," I whispered, eyes closing despite myself. It was so late, and I was finally starting to feel tired. I kept my eyes closed, counting to ten…after ten I would open them again…_one…two…thr- _I jumped awake, not even realizing I fell asleep to discover James had been saying something to me. "I'm sorry," I said immediately, "I must have dozed off. What were you saying?"

He laughed, "Nothing important, don't worry. You were only out for a minute or two. Do you want me to leave?"

"What?"

"If you want to sleep…should I leave?"

"Do you want to?"

"I asked you first." His voice wasn't teasing at all, despite the statement. I realized he needed to make sure that it was okay, that I was okay with it.

"No. Stay. I want you to stay. As long as you want to."

"I want to. But you need to sleep. You can barely keep your eyes open, love, and I'm nearly there myself."

"So stay here," I whispered.

He studied my face. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

I moved into him, tilting my face up to meet his. "Knowing you has taught me that the ideas I think are the worst generally turn out to be the best. So yeah, it's probably a terrible idea. But I want you to stay."

He kissed my forehead, lips lingering a few seconds more than was necessary, before wrapping his arms around me and resting his head over mine. "Alright then. Goodnight, Lily."

"Night. And James?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for the sugar quill."

* * *

It was the soft breath on his neck that woke James up much earlier than he hoped. Reluctantly opening his eyes against the harsh morning light that filtered into the room he looked to the reason for his disturbance and smiled. Lily was facing him, cheek squashed against her pillow, face level with his neck. He could feel her tiny little breaths on his skin where they mixed with the red strands of her hair that fell about them. Her eyelashes fluttered just slightly and she made a small sound of contentment, burrowing herself further into the pillow.

She was all together too adorable and he was exceedingly happy that he had woken up before her. He hoped she would stay asleep for a longer time still; he didn't want to be interrupted ogling her. On the other hand, maybe it was better she woke up now so he could stop leering at her like a pervert. The last thing he wanted was for her to wake up uncomfortable – he might never get to do this again, if that happened. And falling asleep with Lily was an occurrence he definitely wanted to repeat.

This was different from that night a week ago. For one, they were in Lily's warm and cozy bed and not on a cold floor. But more than that, _she_ felt different. That first night she was stiff and on edge, far beyond a restless sleeper should be. The multiple kicks to his legs proved that. But he hadn't known what to do to make her more comfortable. The closer he moved to her the more she seemed to tense up, but the further away he was, the more upset she seemed to be, and when he had offered to go upstairs and forget it entirely, she protested. He knew he probably shouldn't have asked her at all in the first place but he couldn't resist, just as he couldn't resist it now. It seemed there was nothing about this girl he _could_ resist.

And therein was the problem, because, with the glorious exception of last night, Lily was able to resist him all too well. He wasn't blind or stupid, and even without the brilliant help of Veritaserum he knew she was attracted to him. He had his suspicions in the corridor a month ago, when she first kissed his neck. Yet the more she seemed to realize it, the more she pushed away… Except when she didn't. Like when she leaned into him as they were dancing and when she had reached for his hand that night. Like when she blurted things out about him touching her and when she asked him to take off her clothes and when she told him she wanted him. Veritaserum didn't lie, even the home brewed kind. And though he wanted to kill Sirius for inadvertently putting her in such a compromising position, he also knew his friend was partially responsible for the events of the previous night.

But no matter, there was no way he could honestly consider the things Lily did or said while under the influence of a truth potion as much as the things she did or said daily. But that didn't mean he couldn't think about them over and over. Constantly. James didn't think there was any way he could forget her breathlessly giving him permission to kiss her, and the memory of the feel of her skin under his mouth wasn't liable to go away any time soon. He had almost lost control, very nearly leaving a mark, the idea that anyone, including stupid bloody Charles could see it, could know that Lily had been with _him _nearly drove him mad. But if Charles was able to see it, that would mean others would be able to as well, and with the holidays coming up, James didn't think it was a good thing for, say, Lily's parents to know what she had been up to.

Still, he could barely understand how he had gotten himself to stop at all, and he could not fathom what to do from here. He desperately wanted to pick up exactly where he had ended things last night but there was no way Lily would be okay with that. Once she woke up and remembered her actions, she'd be mortified. What was he going to do?

James knew Lia was right as usual. This would have to be approached differently. He couldn't go in – how had she described it? – Ah, on some grand romantic notion. He'd have to be more careful about it. He'd have to think things through, plan things out, take his time. Merlin, he didn't want to. He wanted to dive in, in a heady overwhelming rush. Could he control that urge? He would have to, if he wanted her enough. But did he?

She made that small noise again and pressed into him in the tiniest way.

_Oh yes. _He did.

He really was a bloody fool. Everything Lily was doing drove him crazy. He wondered if waking her up with a morning snog was moving too quickly. Hmm, perhaps she wouldn't appreciate it as much as he would.

"James?"

_Oh bugger, I hope she didn't catch me staring at her_. But she was yawning and stretching her arms over her head, eyes closed. Her shirt rose up a little bit as she did so and he became intensely focused on the floral bed pattern until she settled back down.

"Good morning. Sleep well?"

She nodded and smiled. "Yes, very well. What about you? I didn't kick you again, did I?"

He grinned at her worried expression. "No, you were fine, don't worry."

"How long have you been awake?"

Long enough to wish you were awake so we could make better use of this bed. "A little while."

"Oh, I'm sorry I was still asleep. What've you been doing all this time?"

"Looking at you."

He didn't have to see her to know that she'd be blushing. "Do I have something on my face? Oh, it's my hair isn't it? It always looks like a birds nest in the morning."

"It looks fine," he said, tucking a few strands behind her ear. Was all girls' hair this soft? "That's what I was thinking about actually."

"My hair?"

"Well not just your hair. How adorable you look in the morning."

"I'm all…rumpled."

"Yes. And it suits you well."

Lily didn't respond and he wondered if he said too much. She wasn't shoving him away, but she wasn't exactly throwing herself into his arms, either. Instead she lay there, biting her lip and staring at a point on his chest. He wasn't used to being so careful; old habits die hard, after all.

"Maybe we should get up."

He reached for her arm. "No! Let's stay here…at least for a few more minutes anyway. Please?"

She didn't respond again but this time he knew he convinced her. "Okay. Maybe just for a little while. We can't spend all day in bed."

James bit back his retort that _yes, they bloody well could_ and wound his arms around her instead without realizing what he was doing. Oh, now she was going to kill him. She wasn't under any influence and neither was he. This was too much. He tried to turn his movements into a hug but when he went to pull away, she grabbed him and tucked her head under his. He grinned. Maybe it wasn't too much after all. He kissed the top of her head and she responded by squeezing him a little tighter, pressing herself into him.

Merlin, she was going to be the death of him. _Now_ it was too much; she just felt too bloody good. He had to get up. But how could he tear himself away from a beautiful girl who, for the time being, was not restraining herself around him? Her foot slid against his and he nearly buckled against her. Was she even aware she was doing this? He felt rather than heard her soft giggle against his chest. Oh, the little chit…she knew exactly what she was doing to him. And she was enjoying it. Well, two could play that game.

Slowly he moved his hand so it brushed away her hair and stroked the side of her neck with his knuckles. She arched her neck to give him better access and her eyes closed. Grinning, he moved his fingers to the nape of her neck and ran his fingers back and forth. Had her skin always felt this smooth?

"You don't play fair," she mumbled almost incoherently into his chest. Perhaps the Veritaserum hadn't fully worn off, after all.

He leaned down to her ear and felt her shiver underneath him. Fighting to keep his hormones in check he placed a soft kiss to the back of her ear. When she arched into him he was ready for it, grabbing a hold of her hip to keep her in place.

"I'm not playing," he whispered harshly.

She froze, but the hand that was still on his back trembled.

"I think I should probably go now," he said.

"Oh. Okay." He wasn't imagining the disappointment and confusion in her voice.

"It's not because I want to," James assured her. "But if I don't leave right now I won't be able to control myself. I can hardly do it now."

Lily squeezed her eyes shut tighter and let out a sexy little breath. "That's probably…wise."

He untangled himself from her arms even as his body screamed at him in protest. She opened her eyes slowly and he cupped her face in his hand. She really was too beautiful for her own damn good. He leaned down with every intention to kiss her cheek, but his mouth apparently had a mind of its own as it touched the very corner of her lips instead. Lily whimpered and clenched her hand into a fist on the sheets.

He had to get out of there before he embarrassed himself.

Reluctantly, he got off the bed. Was it just him or did the room seem colder when he wasn't lying in bed with her? Perhaps for the sake of warmth he should get back in. No, at the moment he needed cold, and lots of it. Perhaps an icy shower while he was at it. Yes, that was more sensible. It was a lot easier to think now that he wasn't in touching distance of her creamy skin.

"I'm supposed to go meet the guys…in a little bit, so I should go get ready." Was his voice hoarse? Did she notice? He hadn't felt so awkward and unsure of himself in ages.

"Yeah, yeah, me too," Lily said hurriedly, sitting up. "Sophie. I'm meeting Sophie."

"Cool. Have fun, I'll see you later."

"Yeah. Later."

He walked all the way to the door before he turned around saw her sitting on her bed, knees pulled up to her chest, one hand touching her lips. He couldn't resist.

"Lily? Try not to be so tempting next time. I can't always promise to control myself."

She looked him square in the eye. "Good. I can't always promise I'll want you to."

He all but ran for the shower.

* * *

_Teeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee. I don't know about you but I am a HUGE of fan of those moments when a lot of things happen, even though few things happen. As always, feedback of any kind is appreciated. The only writing of mine that people read anymore (or that I even write anymore) is just paper upon paper upon paper. This was a lovely break._

_I don't think I've mentioned this but we're actually fairly close to the end of the story. In fact, there will be only be 1 - 2 more chapters. Never fear, though, I planned a little while ago to go further into this universe and make it a small trilogy of sorts. (There's something so pretentious about calling it a trilogy, no?) Anyway, the next story will be entitled Fair Maiden, will feature a LOT of James' PoV, and will pick up exactly where Prince Charming leaves off. But that's still anywhere between 1 and 2 chapters away, depending on how long chapter 9 will be once I finally finish it. I just wanted to keep you all posted, since I received a few emails asking if I could keep in touch more._

_I hope you're all as excited for Deathly Hallows part 1 as I am. I'll be there at midnight of course, freaking out (but trying to keep calm) - it's gonna be totally awesome! ;-)_

_E._


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